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rosie

@tyc.rosie

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fuck ice, fuck trump, fuck israel, fuck all you pro lifers! free palestine!!!! | you did good $lick🫡 | D💕| I AM JANE DOE!!!

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@jemmaarends good pics?? by @tyc.rosie

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5 months ago

sometimes the silence after a goodbye feels louder than all the words we ever said, like the echo of your name lingering in rooms that no longer belong to us. At first, everything aches in small, ordinary ways—the songs we shared become unbearable, the empty space beside me feels like a question I can’t answer, and I find myself reaching for a version of you that no longer exists. I carried the weight of us for months, turning memories over like fragile glass, wondering where it cracked, where we slipped through each other’s hands. But time, slow and almost unnoticeable, began to soften the sharp edges. The mornings grew quieter in a peaceful way instead of a lonely one, and I learned how to breathe without expecting your voice to follow. I stopped searching for you in every familiar place and started finding pieces of myself I had forgotten were mine. And now, when I think of you, it doesn’t sting the same—it feels like a distant warmth, like sunlight from a past season. I hope wherever you are, you’re laughing freely, loving deeply, and being loved in ways I couldn’t give. I hope your days are gentle and your nights are full of comfort, and that the person beside you sees the same light I once did. As for me, I’ve made peace with your absence; it no longer feels like something missing, but something that led me back to myself. - rose. by @tyc.rosie

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6 months ago

there’s an anger in me that doesn’t shout, doesn’t break things or leave obvious scars—it just sits there, heavy and patient, like it knows it’s not allowed to exist. I’ve learned how to press it down, layer it beneath everything else, bury it under forced smiles and practiced laughter until it blends in with the rest of me. It leaks out in quiet ways though, in the tightness of my chest, in the way my jaw clenches when no one’s looking, in the silence I keep instead of saying what I actually feel. I turn it into something more acceptable, reshape it into determination, into confidence that isn’t real, into a version of happiness that looks convincing enough from the outside. People see the surface and think I’m fine, maybe even strong, but they don’t realize how much of that strength is just restraint, just holding everything in so nothing spills over. Because if it did, I don’t know what it would look like—I don’t know if it would come out as rage or grief or something I wouldn’t recognize at all. So I keep burying it, deeper and deeper, stacking it beneath every other emotion until it becomes part of the foundation, something I stand on while pretending it isn’t there. And the strangest part is how normal it starts to feel, how you convince yourself this is control, this is maturity, when really it’s just hiding—hiding from a fire that never went out, just learned how to burn quietly beneath the surface. by @tyc.rosie

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6 months ago

by @tyc.rosie

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9 months ago