Love and respect are not mutual. You can love someone with all your heart, and disrespect them on levels unfathomable. Love is a feeling, respect is a choice. Choose wisely.
Confession
I'm tired of holding the weight of the world on my shoulders; tired of the tension that holds my body hostage tired of the nightmares that don't let me sleep tired of the flashbacks that keep me imprisoned tired of the angry words that nestle into my brain tired of the panic that circulates my blood … Continue reading Confession
Obscured
I just want one day where the air doesn't catch in my throat, and my heart doesn't shatter.
Absent
I'm existing in a world where the people around me forget I exist. The irony is not lost on me.
Wrong Directions
Therapy is driving around in a faulty car alone, sad girl songs turned up so loud your head hurts, screaming along to lyrics that feel too familiar, while tears remind you the numbness is a facade. It turns out you're still human.
Smaller
The thoughts consume me, maybe I'll just wither away. If I make myself smaller, is there no room for pain? Rain clouds hide the sunshine, hide the reasons left to smile. If I make myself smaller, will they stay for awhile? Words sound so violent, and love feels closed off. If I make myself smaller, … Continue reading Smaller
Figment
Somedays the ghost of you is heavy with anger, hellbent on replaying all the darkest moments, designed to remind me that my self worth once rested solely on your broken promises. Other days, you exist in my head as if you were just a storybook character, more jester than evil king; a figment, an illusion … Continue reading Figment
Little Devil on my Shoulder
I'm struggling today; bad head space. I can't find a way out of the empty homes I built inside hollowed bones of the souls that never saw my value. And I'm left in the aftermath, trapped in a past that doesn't serve me well, reminiscing on violent hands and "Everything I do is because I … Continue reading Little Devil on my Shoulder
Rewind.
Flashbacks feel like playbacks of the same damn videos; heartbreaking memories of daddy and mommy fighting, red and blue police lights, bullies on the playground, pretend friends sharing secrets, adult games at a young age, men who do not know what no means, men who say love is violence, mothers who let you down. Always … Continue reading Rewind.
Tattered.
Broken people have an uncanny ability to fill the holes left in their souls with the cruelest words, thrown at them by those who never loved them in the first place.
Fire & Female 