I run my thumb over the stretch marks on the inside of my thighs.
Smooth grooves, not deep, not long,
Reminiscent of the weight gained
That made my *** expand and boys notice me,
Not because they liked me
But because they saw this growth.
These lines tell a short story
About my transition into adulthood.
My transition into catcalling and
Being called bubble **** and
Being told I must be able to dance because of my ***
Small creases, barely noticeable
But significant to my life
My being
Our pain.
I am not proud of these marks
That become visible every time I sit
Criss-crossed and quickly realize they’re there again and move my legs together.
No, I am not proud of these marks.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
I used to pray to the moon
Because it was the only thing that made
Sense.
Walked outside on brightly lit nights,
Pressed my nervous palms together
And wished.
See,
The moon was constant.
I could see it there on the darkest of nights.
It had cycles that never broke and
A face that never changed.
I kneeled to its beauty and
Begged it for love.
I knew it couldn't answer me.
I knew it wouldn't help.
But it always made more sense.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 3:34 PM UTC
the clock is ticking
hold your breath, suppress your scream
the night is coming
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 10:57 PM UTC
It starts with something small—
Missed plans, the tiniest thing gone wrong.
And all of a sudden it's a downward spiral.
Fear, unrest, paranoia sets in
And like a volcano, there's no stopping it once it's started.
You can only sit and watch yourself burn—
Until everything cools and hardens.
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 4:58 AM UTC
sometimes it's like i feel too much.
waves of emotions overwhelm me
and i am powerless against its force.
it's like i feel everything deeper.
canyons and trenches could not compare
to the depths of what makes me, me.
somehow i feel everything for longer.
droughts have ended faster
than i have been able to let go.
my emotions build and dissipate
more quickly than the rain falls.
one minute thunder, the next a rainbow.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 10:30 PM UTC
Life is just a mixture
Of unfortunate circumstances
Wrong people right time
Right time wrong people
Let him go No
Love him harder What for
Breathe in and listen to the cars
Passing peacefully outside
Tomorrow is another day
And it's okay to cry
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 1:31 AM UTC
i don't believe in god
but this sickness makes me pray.
pray to hurt less,
maybe for just one day.
i don't believe religion can heal people.
but i drown myself in holy water
hoping i'll see a change.
i don't believe in the holy ghost
but man do i wish he'd help me.
i could use a little guidance
when its late at night
and my thoughts consume me.
i don't believe in heaven
but the finality of death scares me.
how much id love to think
we, greedy humans,
get a second chance at living.
i don't believe in hell,
but that may be where i go.
for I've sinned too many times to count
and had too many conversations with the devil.
but from what I've seen of this place
i think i might already be there.
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 12:36 AM UTC
it's hard to explain how
some days I'm full of smiles
and I'm convinced everything is okay.
and other days I'm too crippled
with fear.
sometimes i can talk myself out of it--
tell myself its all in my head.
but most days it makes
even the happiest moments
lined with overwhelming worry.
sometimes i can forget about it
when I'm distracted for a moment.
but it always finds a way to sneak out
past my chapped lips
creating sound from my sorrowful tongue.
my concerns become voiced
even if i don't want them to be.
but if i don't speak out
the anxiety will bury me.
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 12:18 AM UTC
the worst feeling
is when you imagine
a beautifully worded
line of poetry
and forget to write it down.
too lazy to write it
when you're laying tiredly in bed.
and once you've awaken,
certain you would've remembered,
your face can't help but fall
in pure disappointment.
regret overcomes you
as you realize slowly
that those words will never come back.
one can only hope
that this moment of beauty,
this poetry,
between us
is not as fleeting.
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 10:57 PM UTC
I hide my pain between smiles
and in my poetry behind sloppy metaphors.
I tuck it in nice and neatly
into my personified words of hurt.
And in phrases laced with the
essence of you.
A completed poem,
a now free mind.
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 7:24 PM UTC