I remember being told
you didn't want people to know
about your ability to be violent and to keep control.
You said it was your way of always staying ahead
back then, I guess I didn't realize what exactly that meant.
I remember being told
I had the softest skin you've ever felt
make no mistake, my skin remains thick, even in this hell.
And if you were more of man I could say this to your face,
but that would require integrity taking arrogant's place.
And communication can't happen
if comprehension isnt there
and all you ever comprehended
was what you thought was unfair.
But only what was unfair to you, and you alone...
If your actions ever hurt me, it was my fault; why? Who ******* knows.
I remember being told I always felt like home.
You've been watching too many indie shows.
I'm not the girl you romanticized,
I'm not so easily swayed.
I stand my ground, I stand up for myself,
so you were never strong enough to stay.
I took away the fun of your game.
I exited the box you put me in,
I can't be manipulated as easy as you thought,
your true colors aren't really colors at all
you're in the shadows, and bleeding, a lot.
And I really hope you heal your wounds
while you wander around in the dark
I had a light, I wanted to share,
but you can't hold hands with a lark.
So go ahead and find the folks
who you think hate me as much as you hate yourself
**** my old best friends, **** my old boyfriends,
whatever you need for your "mental health".
And tell your creepy friends they can get the ******* my media
Just like you get off to starving women for your attention to drive them into hysteria.
The only time I felt desired
shouldn't have been whenever we ******
I'm a goddess, you're not worthy,
and I wish you best of luck.

I've been carrying my anger
like a runaway bag
but my arms have given out
and I'm starting to lag...
Our memories keep replaying
and it feels like I'm being burnt with steam
my heart ******* aches; it's blistering.
And I hate knowing more about your history
despite knowing you a long time already
I didn't know you very well, clearly
I knew nothing about your constant state of misery
and all the toxic baggage you carried so heavily
that I picked up without even being asked
maybe that's what caused so many panic attacks...
And I see you like the idea of filtering
through women that used to be bordering
on being best friends or being enemies
and how you love getting comfortable right in-between
But you're going to run out of targets,
you're going to break your record score
you snaked out my vulnerabilities, my secrets
and wear them on your arm like a *****.
But unlike you, I know exactly who I am
you pretend to revere women
when in reality you ******* hate them.
I hope you never look me in the eyes again
what ever happened to honest men?
Regardless of the matter, I hope you find the help you need.
Ps. The leather jacket I bought you looks better on me

A cog in the machine
A devastated dream

Been about a month now
since you skipped out
You romanticized me for so many years
I was bound to let you down
only so much time could pass
before you wouldn't want me around
And hey baby that's cool
just wish I didn't break my own rules
rules you never even knew
but you'd have stomped over those too, if you did
I hate how you'd talk to me like I was a ******* kid
meanwhile I had to remind you to brush your teeth
remind me again how you were so much better than me...
A self-proclaimed, self-aware, self-diagnosing, king
pursuing me while you still had a ring?
"I just haven't done the paperwork, it's nothing"
Doesn't sound much like royalty to me
sounds like a mess without loyalty
to anyone but himself.
I hope you get over yourself--for your health.

Another creepy man
defending another
projecting their narratives
to erase the other
Especially if the other
is coming from a woman's lips
How dare you speak boldy!
someone shut her up with a kiss!
How dare you speak shamelessly
about the men who made you feel unsafe
How dare you turn a scary thing
into something with a funny face
I don't need to prove to you or any man
that where I belong is my current space.
And I will continue to take it up!
If you're thirsty, grab a sippy cup
grow the **** up

And they say, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned".
You knew who I was going into this, you didn't need to be warned.

I've been patient since day one
I let you in on my **** since the first run
I was on my knees
I confessed I had to leave
I left claw marks on your back
that bleed through and showed
how hard it was to let you ******* go

Reaching and breaking
a high until I fall
just to get you to hear me at all
I loved you so blindly,
so purposely and entirely,
focusing everything
to our future that I carved out into my psyche
clammy hands gripping ballpoints while I'm shaking
Because linear lines were never really my thing
especially in learning about loving
and what it would eventually bring me
But it was never supposed to be like this
I guess lessons are sometimes easy to miss
I'm glad I was I was already standing
Meanwhile I've been carrying so much hostility
vulnerability doesn’t come so easy anymore
I feel weak whenever I let down a wall,
open a window, or a door...
And because of that, no one ever really gets in
if they do, just like you, it’s right before they’re leaving
Because time and time again I’m shown
that I’m only here to change a man’s life, not stay in it
while they're thirsty for me to inspire it,
to mystify, to entertain ****
to help them see what they’re worth
to dig into their layers running deeper than the earth’s...
But I’m not here to be a muse
without reciprocation of inspiration infused...
I want someone to dig into my layers
the way that I dig into theirs
instead of playing the part of understanding me
when in reality, they don't ******* care...
It was easier for you to stay on the surface
where you could observe me, lay within me,
take my vibe in without any hassle,
but my roots are just as important as my petals
You made it to my soil and wanted a ******* medal
Got into the dirt where it's dark,
and I suddenly became too heavy
I became a burden you carried
while I continued to carry you...
And I don't think I was ever truly yours
I didn't want to be just another
I didn't want to be your mother, your therapist, your **...
I felt like a hidden world being left undiscovered
that you once said you wanted so badly to know
your words will never produce as much as your actions show
because if you had ever loved me, you'd have let us grow
planting the seeds were half the toil
and your roots were never in my soil

and here's the thing
I don't give a ****
about what you think I might have said about you
over five years ago
in coversations that were once private
with someone who doesn't **** with me anymore
leave the drama at the door
stop keeping score

headphones hit a little different sometimes
melody striking me right in the ******* spine
I wanna break open every feeling I'm suppressing
tired of keeping my own self guessing
on what's gonna get conjured up next
I'm not saving money, so I won't make bets
I'm spending
so I'd rather take another loss
rewind me, get that dust off me, what's the cost?
I've got light leaks bleeding into my brain
nostalgia like film strips developing in wood stain
I wanna find a new way to dig deep
I wanna find a melancholy that doesn't seep
into the depths of me that end up poisoning
it doesn't belong in my bloodstream
but it enters through my lungs
I breathe it in every time I think
which is constant, and burying
I'm ready to move into a new year
find a new perspective that's a little more clear
get a new grip on reality
that doesn't give me blisters or make me bleed
feel the wind on my face
that doesn't come with a warning
I'm already freezing

Exuding light still from inside of me
Although small, it is but mighty
My icy exteriors make more room for assuming
I’ve got a heart that’s still beating
Looking for answers & looking for meaning

Pandemic levels of confusion
I wanna go back to when it made sense

join me in space
we're getting high on expectations
and lost causes
crushing up dried roses
that I've kept after all this time
and no one knows this
or what the roses really mean
if you think know, you know nothing
it just exists for me
and I want to keep floating
in-between misery and day dreams
I feel safer in the fantasy
of delusion meeting hope for something
for anything

When I think of memories
depicting feelings of my personal freedom
there’s always a cool breeze in my hair
and when the day is over
there’s a musty scent in my hair
from soaking in every step I took
and every dance I twirled under the prairie sky
I’m always chasing that feeling
my lungs opening up into wings
catching my breath so my freedom sings
but reality soaks through all good things
and the dark side of capitalism makes us all prisoners
a country divided keeps raising up the controllers
and we continue on in our division
petty crimes making up mass incarceration
dangerous men walking free and calling it justice
I'm tired of this
I wanna believe in good intentions
I wanna believe in honest testimony
tears covering up lies and misery loving company
we keep running in different directions competing in the same race
telling those born without boots to pull them up by their straps
while they're licking the boots of the man

Aurora borealis skies
bruises on my thighs
high fidelity type of ****
sharing the same color palette
I never get tired
of looking at those hues
but only when I'm looking up,
or directly at you
cause I'll ignore all the colors
when looking down on my own pores
unless I put it there deliberately with a brush
covering my sores
by mimicking the stars
with glitter crush
I could have stayed under that sky all night
to try and spin myself a thread made out of the light
because I've got a deep desire
to stitch that borealis glow right into my scars
to make that sparkle become my seams
to produce tones that replace muscle memory screams
Yet all the same,
the struggles teach something
and it's that these scars
are a requisite to growing
and bravery seeps out when I leave them showing
because there's a glow in melancholy
and sometimes, in metaphorically burst veins
because when art comes from tragedy
there's a glow in pain

That never needed stitching

I dance with all my demons
But they’ve got no rhythm

making yourself the victim all the time gets really old
and I know you're not one to take any suggestion you're told
because if **** got better you can't place blame
in every direction except the one that it came
and baby that source is right back to you
I've got, the world's got, we've all got trauma too
but I don't use it for reasons to treat you like ****
all I was ever looking for was a genuine apology and I never got it
and I know deep down you might want to get better
but you want to take the easiest way
there isn't a pill to take away trauma you haven't faced
you're all over the ******* place...
and I'll be able to sleep at night, just maybe not that soon
breathing got easier without you ******* it all out of the room
but I don't like to live a life with regrets,
I loved you with all of me, and I can't change it
I stood with my arms open to you ready to do the work
but I can't tell you the view will be beautiful at the top
if you're going to sit at the bottom in the dirt
which is where you always liked it
manipulation and mental gymnastics
shattered my rose colored glasses

**** your expectations & entitlement
to my tenderness & vulnerability
to desire does not mean you will receive
you already made the choice to leave
the first ******* two, three times...
I’m no longer on the other line.
hang the **** up
don’t try a twelfth, thirteenth time
I’m doing just fine

Been listening to the saddest playlists I can muster
while some have only been on the back burner
just waiting for the next heartache to come my way
it's a shame you never really calmed my anxiety's shakes
codependence turned into despondence and headaches
I woke up in your arms day after day
even the day you officially ran the other way
and left me there still shaking
I couldn't have ran after you even if I had been ready
I'd been trudging through the mud for too long already
and lately I've been forgetting what you feel like
I'm still waiting to decide how I feel about that

They’ll play the villain you keep painting them as if you’re not careful...

cracking cold achy knuckles
always happens when I'm nervous
**** your tenderness

tell me again about how you're living life different
about your rose colored cheeks and swimming against the current
you've got me filled with artificial intensity
while you're leaking out your acidic hypocrisy

it was a time you don't remember
when your body was broken
and your heart burned like ember

you think only of yourself
told me we were on the same team
now my silence is my self defense
because it's better not to speak
I refuse to think that's weak
I'm protecting what's mine

I've got a brain like an old manor
always haunting the hallways of my own mind
and thinking there's gonna be something new I'll find;
but I never do.
I only ever find you....
everyone...
and them...
time and time again.
I keep my love in an asylum
safe from violence behind the walls I've built
I steadily keep both eyes on the doors
and my hands on the hilt.
But lately, this sword feels double-edged
protecting myself, but ultimately forming a wedge
between me and something secure
because showing vulnerability has never held much allure.
I've got a ribcage like a cathedral
stained glass expands from every breath within
I've got a heart like a sanctuary
church benches filling up with anyone I ever let in.
But they're all fusing to the surfaces,
because I can't let anything go
I've been taught what it feels like,
but I still don't know.
I don't have room for too many more
I've got to chisel out room or find a new door
to make my heart just like a prairie
ever vast and ever winding
with soil that's meant for growing.

water rings collecting
from the condensation of my beers on your end table
no air conditioning, summer sweating
water rings reflecting
in the glow from rope lights draped across your ceiling
I remembered every single moment from that night for nine years
and it's those small moments
you tell yourself you'll never forget
so you study every shadow
every sight, every dusty beam of light
but time passes and you still end up forgetting
when you never thought you could
you just keep getting buried
but I'll take whatever I can get
I'm glad I had my camera strapped around my neck
it's how I trapped those memories for only me
back then it was for love
now it's for tragedy
good intentions are fleeting
because in mere moments passing
they're already transforming
you're the cat making biscuits out of my brain matter
years ******* later

Scrolling my phone mindlessly
breezing past a selfie from someone in a bar
on the windowsills I used to sit...
I don't necessarily miss it;
but there's melancholy for the memories,
the smell of cigarettes on my fingertips,
and ***** soaking my worries...
tonight it feels like that could be nice,
cause I haven't been able to sleep for days...
been having nightmares every time I do;
and everything I write just feels redundant
but I've got so much I wanna say...
summer makes me feel more lonely
than when I'm under winter skies,
got so many parts of myself I don't recognize...
but every street has a memory,
and I'm just trying to move on
where bartenders once memorized my drinks,
they now probably wouldn't remember my name....
quit smoking **** in the spring
I'm spending money recklessly
******* myself over royally
I just wanna feel something good

Land of the free, land of "me me me"
when it should be "we";
it should be community
with a priority of protecting
your neighbors,
your daughters,
your sons,
mothers, and fathers
and their right to choose,
their right to live,
their right to freedom,
and their right to give
to any cause, to any God,
to have autonomy of their bodies
that don't bear the weight of laws.
Land of the free, only if you can afford it
and if you need help, don't ask for it,
you'll get shamed for it.
Land of the free, unless it's asylum you seek;
you'll be called dangerous, lazy, and weak.
I want to see acts of kindness
I want to see acts of peace
I so tired of this narrative
I'm tired of the collective grief.
This rollercoaster is never ending,
with constant spinning, turning,
and worrying
about the safety of my body
the safety of my peers,
the rich getting richer
and politicians mongering fears.
And then using it to their advantage
using it to get ahead,
no matter who it might hurt,
no matter who it might leave dead.
Land of the free, collectively screaming
but only ever at each other
at our neighbors, our children,
our fathers and mothers.
And for what? To feel glory?
To feel holy?
Are we really so lost
that we can't recognize repeating history?
Because saying "it could be worse"
means you think the loss of freedom for others is fine
you only hear their stories as complaining
and their terrified voices as a whine.
I don't know where we go from here
I don't know where to put the pain
I don't know how to make people understand
the importance of caring...
about a fellow human's well-being
beyond your own carcass
about the light and life in others
being swallowed by darkness.
Because I believe that freedom for others
doesn't affect any freedom for me
It isn't always about equality
it's about equity.
Oppression of other's freedoms is abhorrent;
why be so afraid to swim against the current?
Land of the free if you've got the right skin tone,
land of the free if you've got the right "parts"
yet the folks who know true oppression,
are so often the ones with the biggest hearts
who continue to believe in community,
who believe the oppressed and their stories,
who care for the well being of others
and no need for personal glory.
Give us liberty.

is the light really gone,
or am i hiding from it.
accepting things,
for everything.
not changing things,
that can be changed.
staying silent
when i should speak.
am i the enemy,
or is it the light.
(2011)

My voice may get shakey
whenever I cry or when I sing,
but I take my photographs steadily,
and make them really mean something.
There's confessions in everything;
in my memories, in my bones,
in my poetry, in my songs
on the gravel roads where I meet god...
I can't look at anything without seeing expression
and I can't remember living without my depression
So what happens when there's peace?
There's a certain discomfort in that space
There's art everywhere and I want to swim in it
but I'm so often being rushed away in the current...
sinking at sea until the water is no longer blue
I keep forgetting you can't go around,
you always gotta go through...
And while I might be feeling a loss,
while I might be feeling lonely,
I've got plenty of things that I consider as wealth,
none of them being money.
So I'm gonna wipe away my tears
I'm gonna continue to sing
and there's gonna be nothing that stops me
from seeing art in everything.

Hold me like a dry flower
because my petals are still hungry
I'm thirsty, come on and fill me up
I don't turn technicolor for just anyone

My trauma isn't based in arguments of woman vs man,
It's patterns vs observation;
Post-traumatic self-preservation.
Giving explanations to my hesitation
is a sign of my thirst for consolation,
not an invitation to argue my trauma into rehabilitation
when you don't have all the information...
My heart sleeps every night under a deep rooted tree formation
that shades over all of my humiliation and devastation.
I may be miles away from where I first experienced my trust's suffocation,
I just need to rest here for a little while longer...
The sun is healing and always comes out eventually,
but I can't heal from any light that's cast artificially.
While destruction to my foundation eventually brings creation,
that which is planted can not sprout without germination...
I'm still waiting for my seed's coat to rupture
so I can spread my roots into the earth and learn to trust her.
I'm rebuilding the burned down home that housed my trust in men,
I'm laying bricks down every day until I can believe again....
That I'm not in danger anymore.
That I can move my body away from the door I've been barricaded against,
long before the break in, and ever since.
Because the punches just kept coming;
It was never raining, it was always pouring.
And I'm still floating in those wells that are shaded deeply under trees.
It's not a challenge for you to find a resolve to...
I'm not looking to argue.
I just want you to believe that I'm trying every day,
that I'm not stubborn in my ways...
I'm finding a way out of the darkness; I'm finding a way to feel safe.
I'm always looking for the light.

Lately I've been haunting my ghosts back
just as much as they haunt me
visions of silhouettes against stain glass
crisp autumn air in our mourning
I keep an iron grip in my mind
of every texture, every scent,
every feeling, and what everything meant
The darkness of November always sneaks up on me
and even without light, it's blinding
November always rips away at me
sometimes in a way that hurts me
other times, in a way that's healing
I don't always have the time to dissect it
I don't always find a way to understand it
I just feel it
and let it wash over me
because there's always art waiting
on the other side of the misery

Too cool to suggest anything to
I understand not wanting to waste your time
But at a certain point
you're just moving through life
with a closed mind
And too much pride  
How are you able to have a god and victim complex at the same time?
I'd tell you that you should be studied
but you'd smirk and whole heartedly agree
Then go on and on about being the person who is the most interesting
But you're really so exhausting
Not everything needs to be so serious
If a woman making music and showing her body distracts you so much
then just stick to audio recordings
instead of making it her issue
that you fall victim to
all because you have no self control
Because which is more pitiful?
A brain that can't see a woman without thinking about ***?
Or a woman who openly admits she likes it.
I can assure you it's not the latter
What a woman is wearing while creating shouldn't ******* matter
Your narrative is weak and outdated
And while I'm at it
what the **** have you created?
I'd like to see you be half as creative as the **** you complain about seeing
when you're not even listening
You're just too cool
aren't you

Layer after layer
I'm scraping away at you
I've got blankets of my good intentions
soaked in paint remover
Every day I lay them over
your thick coats of shame and fear
that suffocates all your thoughts
that you continuously refuse to share
They've eventually gotta go some place...
but where?
They get buried under your growing resentment
that's coated over all your shame
which then floats in insecurities
that always have someone else to blame
And arguing, for you, is like a sport
that you'll do anything to win
I can't ever find a way out of this
when there's not even a way in
I keep running away
but only in circles
that lead right back to you
cause I'm not ready to choose
I'm not ready to lose
so I'll grab another blanket
and soak it