he is the do not enter sign on a locked door.
a door I am not meant to open.

He is the puzzle missing one piece.
a piece I can not find.

he is the perfect apple on a tree.
A tree that I can not reach.

He is a match creating beautiful sparks.
Sparks that will never catch on fire.

I will never
open this door
finish this puzzle
pick this apple
start this fire

because he is not meant for me.

You took a beautiful apple and spoiled it with your hard touch.

Pealed away her soft skin
Leaving it to rot.
Chewed away at her sweet flesh
Leaving nothing but the core,
After every bite you swallowed.
Swallowed her identity,
Her beauty,
Her dignity.
Leaving tiny seeds
Tucked within her rotting core.
Waiting to be watered,
Loved,
Planted.

He took those hopeless seeds and grew an apple with his soft touch.

What's under the band-aid?

Three red lines
I cut
To heal
To deal
With pain
In my brain.

Oh, that? Its just a paper cut.

We live in a world where no means convince me and flirting is a green light for ***.
Where women are told, don't get ***** and men are rarely told, don't ****.
Where **** shaming is encouraged and victims are blamed.
Where speaking out about **** is a call for attention and **** victims are silenced.
We live in a world where **** culture is normal and that is **unacceptable.

A boyfriend and a goal
The fuel to my eating disorder.
Just 5 pounds.
No dessert tonight
Just 4 pounds.
No dessert tonight
Half a sandwich for lunch
Just 3 pounds.
No dessert tonight
Half a sandwich for lunch
Only a salad for dinner
Just 2 pounds.
No dessert tonight
Half a sandwich for lunch
Only a salad for dinner
I'll go for a run
Just 1 pound.
No dessert tonight
Half a sandwich for lunch
Only a salad for dinner
I'll go for a run
No breakfast tomorrow
Just **5 more pounds...