Sometimes I Wonder..

Sometimes I wonder,
if you ever feel remorse
or understand the gravity
of the pain your actions caused.

I don’t think you do
or you wouldn’t continue,
to put me through the daily abuse.

Sometimes I wonder,
if you could go back
would you do it all over again?
If you knew now what you didn’t back then?

The Men Around Me

All the men around me
have taught me to hate,
taught me to be afraid.

All I’ve learnt is to obey,
I learnt that the hard way -
Don’t fight back, keep quiet
be a good girl now.

All the men around me
have taught me to hate,
taught me to be afraid.

All I’ve learnt is to hide;
Underneath so many layers
I wasn’t sure I’d ever be seen,
But you did.

You saw me & I thought 
I’d found a ‘Good one’.
But I’m starting to see 
I’m just living life to repeat.

All the men around me
have taught me to hate,
taught me to be afraid.

Just Another Statistic

I fear I’ll end up
just another number.
Another statistic
on a spreadsheet.

Lost in the wave,
all those souls
forgotten.

Will anyone
remember our names.
What will I become to you?

Just a number;
One hundred and thirty two.
Which one am I to you?


(132 is the average number of suicides every day in America)

Just posted my first Post+ exclusive poem!! It’s $3.99 a month and I’m offering exclusive poems and other short writing content such as prose and maybe some short stories in the future. Also social media shoutouts and reblogging of your posts although please don’t spam me to reblog like 10 posts in a week try be reasonable in reblog/shoutout requests no spamming basically.

I hadn’t really thought about the shoutouts thing until it had it as a suggested perk I could offer and I thought sure why not add that in.

Anyways I’m excited and will be making sure to post content regularly for subscribers. Idk if this will actually take off or it’ll be a flop but doesn’t hurt to try I suppose. Also let me know if you’ve got feedback like do you think $3.99 is fair or would you rather it be cheaper?

Tumblr gives me a few options on pricing the lowest it goes is $1.99 then it jumps straight to $3.99 but I would consider lowering it at least in the beginning if people are interested but the price is just a bit out of reach for you guys.

dreamyvixen:

“…a cherry-blood sweetness.”

—Catherine Martin, from With the Flame Be Enraptured; “Lilith,” wr. c. 1993 (via violentwavesofemotion)

I’ve been recently asked where all my confidence comes from. Hearing this at first was a shock because for so long, most of my life, I’ve been a deeply insecure person. It caused me some reflection wondering where the confidence I’ve found in the past 2 years has come from… I think the best answer I could give is doing things anywaydespitethe anxious voice in my head causing my own self doubt. I get nervous in lectures to raise my hand and ask questions, but I do it anyway. I get nervous trying new things,butlast night I joined a running club.

I think with growing up and out of my shell hasn’t been about getting rid of the self-doubt or senseless anxiety but instead not letting it overpower me.Isilencethe voice replaying embarrassing scenarios, I don’t give it room to breathe and just do things in spite of it. I think that’s why I come off as confident, because people can’t see the anxiety I’m constantly silencing.

You did it again,

You did it again.

Poison ivy twisting around your neck, just like last time.

“Why are you crying?” “you don’t have any reason to be fucking crying” “what’s the matter with you now?”

You’re mid panic attack, he can’t see that. He never sees that. He just assumes you’re pissed off at him, that’s always the case. You’re not allowed to be quiet, you’re not allowed to sit in silence with your thoughts without being rude and pissing him off. You’re not allowed to be annoyed or upset - you’re feelings aren’t valid, you’re manipulating him, you’re crying to make him feel bad. You’re mid panic attack, and he’s lashing out at you, making you feel worse than you already do.

You’re shrinking,

you’re shrinking.

Disappearing, diminishing, soon you’ll be nothing. You think that’s want he wants. You’re hurting, worse than before. And he can’t help you, you’re not even sure if he wants to help you. You feel like he leaves and goes out to get relief from you, to get away from the emotional baggage and grief you cause him.

You’re crumbling onto the hardwood floor, you wish the floor would just swallow you up. You think about leaving, maybe one day you will.

This road is treacherous.

Once I lost you, I began to look for you, I’d look for you in the men I would date. I’d go for the men with messy blonde hair and sky blue eyes, but would run for the hills after realising they didn’t sound like you, they didn’t kiss like you nor did they listen like you. I started listening for you in songs: picturing the way you used to tap your thumbs against the steering wheel to the beat of the music we’d play in the car. I began to look for you in books; reliving our experience through someone else’s words and perspective. I began smoking those Marlboro cigarettes you always used to smoke, trying to be closer to you even though you were out of reach. I played our playlist everyday, on repeat, imagining we were still in your car singing along to every song. And then I started looking for you in my dreams, replaying the time we spent together over and over again, trying to chase after the memories, knowing I would never be able to replay them again. I tried everything, just to feel close to you - to feel the connection I feared I would never be able to find again.

Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too.

A Scrap of Paper and an Ordinary Pen Draws an Image as Moving In Likeness to the Emotion Instilled in a Van Gogh Painting.

The Artist’s Skill and Technique Differs; however the Emotion is There.

Feel the Feelings and Permit the Emotion to Wander in a Controlled Path.

In the End the Creation is Revealed.