poetry
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I rarely get called [real name]. I don’t know why, but it has always been the case. Even my parents don’t call me by my name. My mother has been calling me “chicken,” for as long as I can remember. Other people close to me call me a variety of nicknames. It may be because
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I should be writing something else right now, but my phone has prompted me to clean out my photos – noting that the number of screenshots is in the thousands – so I started to delete some things. Doing so was like opening a time capsule of the last few years of my life. I
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Remember Tumblr? It was the first social media for many of us. I got to see the pretty pictures and the poetry, but luckily skipped the drama. I couldn’t tell you who wrote it or what the rest of the poem said, but this line from a Tumblr post stays with me even all these
Pretty Lynne Writes 