When I uproot the hairs sprouting from the glabella
and strip my cupid’s bow of its wildflowers,
Frida Kahlo writhes in her grave.
She haunts me.
“You are beautiful.”
[unibrow and all]
“You are beautiful.”
[moustache and all]
“You are beautiful.”
[sadness and all]
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 7:06 PM UTC
I cut off my hair today.
Destroyed my crown of glory.
Threw off the shackles of beauty.
And I've never felt so free.
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 7:06 PM UTC
The outbursts of angry women,
the most beautiful thing to witness.
We fight to be heard —
Another cycle, that will never end..
It is only a wish to watch the fall of men.
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 7:05 PM UTC
Bright Colors
Natures way of warning predators.
It's what I'd like to think.
Bone thin arms
I get nervous at night
Raw strength is something to fear.
****** disadvantages
Is all I see when
I gaze into reality, a mirror.
Absolute truths
Is what i fear, anxious
Bright pink-
What does it mean to me?
Everything.
A source of strength
Or an illusion I have strength at all.
A physical paradox.
I'd rather die respected than
Nothing at all.
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 7:04 PM UTC
I am going on a journey.
Suddenly, it dawned on me —
what if I die?
Abrupt. Unnoticed.
Is there anything
I could leave behind?
Other than grief,
than sadness,
regret?
I realized — no.
I have none.
So I stood up,
braced myself:
I will not die.
At least,
not today.
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 6:57 PM UTC
It shouldn't be shunned
But surrounds me are those unwilling
to utter words that speaks of it.
A culture so fearful of what is most natural.
When death is the natural progression of life.
Not something to be shunned and avoided.
But embraced!
Celebrated!
Oh sweet death, my lovely companion.
Thoughts of you bring me comfort.
One day we will dance and dine.
Till then I soak in the ever spinning sun
Willing to speak on what others fear.
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 6:52 PM UTC
we keep changing the names
of things
as if better semantics
will help us change our nature
but whether you call it
emotion overflowing reason
the furies awakening
having one's buttons pushed
or getting triggered
the human condition
remains
unadulterated
pure
its essence stubbornly
bare
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 1:36 PM UTC
Where will I be,
if I am at the mercy of greater powers at work?
Oh how easily I could've been the dead children of the Earth.
Yet, here I am, life in my lungs.
Blessed to perceive the world around me.
Why me? Why am I the lucky one? Where am I headed?
One can slip into a life of violence, poverty, or servitude, as swiftly as the seasons change
here in the bayou
Aged skin from the relentless sun as they pace day by day.
Where am I headed? I ask as my eyes follow the median.
Dirt covers the fear in their eyes, as they wonder the same question.
Fear won't give me an answer.
I know that tomorrow I'll wake up,
air in my lungs.
And one day I will know.
Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 5:16 PM UTC