Emotion is
    the fibre
      loves
               weaved within.

She can’t tell who will leave
and who will stay.
Instead she chooses
To push them all away.

Being vulnerable
Is her greatest fear.
Her heart is too guarded
To let someone near.

So scared to be loved
Afraid to trust.
If she is broken again
She may crumble to dust.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

for the first time
in 1,460 days
since i have laid eyes on you
i feel okay

i am standing on my own two feet
without you

i look around to find you
in the crowd
not out of excitement
but out of fear
of your fist finding my neck
once again

its like the weight of the world
has been lifted off my back
the weight of your world
has been lifted out of my life

i am free
never to be consumed by you

ever again

when you are a little girl
they tell you
how to act
how to talk
how to smile
to always be forgiving

but how do we forgive
the man who couldn't help
but force his own body onto us
without consent

how do we stay quiet
and not speak up
when his fist meets our throat
and the bruises look of a
red and purple painting
mashed together with pain on our skin


i want to be like a vibrant watercolor painting
u n f o r g i v i n g