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bellamy artemis
thank you everybody for reading these stories and poems it means a lot ✨🤩✨|| he/him
![bellamy artemis](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Ffirebasestorage.googleapis.com%2Fv0%2Fb%2Fprompt-6db57.appspot.com%2Fo%2Fusers%252F5KrZf1Xc2VSaUxAhnZpY07Fv6fG3%252Fprofile_image_128x128.jpg%3Falt%3Dmedia%26token%3D50290201-85df-4518-a755-08a61ad79671&w=256&q=75)
bellamy artemis
thank you everybody for reading these stories and poems it means a lot ✨🤩✨|| he/him
thank you everybody for reading these stories and poems it means a lot ✨🤩✨|| he/him
thank you everybody for reading these stories and poems it means a lot ✨🤩✨|| he/him
you hold my worst memories and thoughts and actions, yet in that state of being you somehow remain my comfort.
i look into you when i’m okay and when i’m not, and i feel better.
i look into you and i become someone else. someone completely new.
you are not only my therapist, you’re my guidance counselor, my college professor, my fucking hero.
you remind me of my young self. you retain so muc...
This week’s harvest was a fairly peculiar one, even for Depression.
He’d caught the typical grievers in their fourth stage, he’d swallowed trauma survivors whole, and he’d captured an innocent and lonely man sitting in the middle of a custody battle.
But what was so different this week was the children.
This was not necessarily an unusual path for the ailment himself to take, but the sheer am...
how incredibly annoying is it that words cannot capture everything?
i will sit here and i will ramble on for hours to you about how the ocean caught the red blazing sun in a perfect reflection.
you will nod your head and smile, but you did not see what i had seen.
i then will tell you that the flowers are in bloom again, and they’re even prettier this year than they were last.
you will nod y...
Charlie was in a band.
They were called The Death Within, and they were absolutely terrible. For some reason, the locals couldn’t get enough of them.
Every now and then, a group of drunken teenagers would band together to write scathing reviews of their performances online. It was one of the only times those angst-ridden loners talked to anyone besides themselves.
Charlie knew this, and he l...
There’s no inspiration in this window, in my bones, or in my blood. No inspiration at all. I need to let my hair down, and I need to let things happen. But things never happen, and that’s why the window is open.
I say there’s no inspiration in the window, and it’s true. The inspiration lies in front of the window, but not behind it, and certainly not within it. If I can see what lies in front, I...