Introvert // aesthetic poetry.

I almost don’t want to call myself an ”introvert” anymore..

that’s too poetic & hip of a way
to express how I’m really feeling, like:

“it’s September and I’ve been smiling for too long at strangers and now I don’t even want to smile at you if you are potentially the next love of my life.

in fact, if you are over 4 years old, I don’t think I can hold a conversation with you until at least mid-way through October.

please, please, I want to know how you’re doing. Just upload it on a blog and send me the link. it’s not that I don’t want to see you in person, I’m just genuinely trying to protect you from my lashing out// hysterically crying// maybe even projectile vomiting at the thought of small-talk”

& yeah, human connection is beautiful etc etc..

or to put things simply — in the words of myself at 17 to some guy at 18 I hardly knew, whose name I don’t remember:

“I just prefer to cuddle alone”

xx Monique