It was as though he’d touched me with cut,
bloodied palms.

His hands on my skin stung him
and marked me.

I carried the blame for being pretty
but salty.

I'd rather live a lifetime alone,
because being a woman is so vulnerable.
We fragile flowers with beautiful petals
that everyone wants to pluck
it doesn't matter what the flower says
if their mind is already made up.
I could never trust another man
and god knows, I don't want to.
When all they've ever done is take from me
but for some reason, never you.
You took me by the hand
and asked me if it was okay,
you put me in the light
and for the first time I felt safe.
But, I did what I do best,
I went and I pushed you away,
so I'd rather live a lifetime alone.
because I can't trust a predator as prey.

You held a promise
over my head like a guillotine,

I'd be safe as long as I did
what you asked,

I'd survive so long as I
gave you what you wanted,

I saw God in the face of Satan,
because there was no other
way for it to be,

and you want my thanks
and gratitude for being
my saviour that
night?

when you would put me
in a prison, for the rest of my life...

i will never
forget looking out
that second story window

hearing the
pool filter
in the background
mixed with heavy breathing

the cheetah print
sheets that cut
my skin open

the smell of marlboro golds
and sweat
with a hint of hopeful regret
filled that entire bedroom
that summer day

but most of all

it was that feeling
that i would rather risk
breaking both legs
jumping from the window

than deal with this pain

ever

            a g a i n

Light entered the dark room.
It's soft glow lit up the dark corners of the room
And even went as far as lighting up the dark corners of her mind.
The warmth spread across her face as she stared into the light-
A fire inside her eyes.
She watched the candle roar with only one flame,
Not afraid if the yellow flicker would burn her heart
If she got too close-
Like she did.
She spat fire at her whenever she brought down her walls.
She had to constantly build them back up so she wouldn't get even the tiniest glimpse of her broken, crippled self.
Her heart and soul were worn out,
Burns marking their territory
And stretch marks seeping through because that one big part of her Learnt to shrink more and more
Just so she'd have more bricks to pile up as defense.
She lived in constant fear that her fire would turn more of her body black again.
She was tired of living in fear of suffocating in her smoke.
Her lungs were sore from breathing in her scorching words.
In the dark room she reached her hand out to the flame,
Something she never thought possible,
Her fingers clasping onto the heat.
Clasping onto the peace
From the lone candle.
She never tasted a fire so beautiful-
For once the orange didn't leave her soul in ashes.
She inhaled the burning serenity
Embracing it,
Engulfing it,
Enlightening her insides
With a new found happiness.
She let herself melt
Into a world brighter than the light
Gone in her eyes.

An old friend came to visit me the other day
Anxiety.
He sat me down with my hopes and dreams and chained them around my wrists,
So that I would be able to reach them
But never catch a hold of them
Because they were just a little too far to fetch.

Writers block is just a giant wall
blocking an even rockier path than the one you're on
Once you find a topic,
you can't find the first word,
the first rhyme,
the first line,
the first stanza,
and I throw my hands up in anger
because I end up writing words in order random
or words to make the lines rhyme sandal

My search history is 99%
"words that rhyme with this or that"
Search results: sat, flat, cat
well that doesn't make sense within the context
but ***** making sense or metaphors or deep lore that you have to analyze,
why can't I just write out my feelings without the right rhymes?
I thought poetry was my remedy,
but it's also my demise.