Home has started to feel less like a home and more like a prison, and this summer all I've been relying on and looking forward to are stolen and brief moments with people that I love, and all in all, the little things. A four-way phone call, conversations shared in an old high school, and holding hands for a while on the beach. I've been pocketing I love you's just in case he leaves. I should write more, read more, draw more. Live more. I've neglected so much. I haven't written here in so long even if I've wanted to. It's just that there are things I'm still trying to talk about but don't know how to put into words. I'm not ready yet.
Seventeen and studying Psychology. I like books, coffee, lyricism, magic hour, (in)signifcant moments, free-verse poetry, mental disorders, female anatomy, pretty smiles, late night conversations, and the time it takes for two people to transcend the boundary between strangers and friends.
I keep sadness at bay by constantly falling in love with the little things in life. My name is Anna and this is where I try to write.
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