Don’t look at them
They might know
No one can know
Keep walking down the hall
Its better this way

Don’t raise your hand
Someone might hear you
Your voice is too high
Remain still, don’t move
That whisper in your head knows better

Don’t join that team
Someone like you doesn’t belong there
Those lockeroom walls talk
And they will make you scream

Don’t talk anymore
Everyone will find out
Disappear and you will be safe
Stay low, keep yourself buried

But this weight is heavy
And this whisper doesn’t care

So let’s go home little whisper
Anywhere alone is good
Because it’s better this way, right?

i’ve tried, alright?
you can’t imagine how long i’ve paced
there is a rut a mile deep in my carpet
where i dragged myself to and fro
trying to make sense of where i went wrong
i snapped my bones into building it
cracked elbows and knuckles trying to tear it deeper
with my questions and pleas to its depth as if
it could forgive me of my sins

i promise i didn’t want it
i tried my best to cleanse myself of it
prayed to god above on the sundays
that He could take bleach and wash me out
from tippy toe to the tip of my top

every piece of evidence was denied
for as long as i could hold it under the water
i held it down and tried to drown it

and some days i still think
that i should’ve gone back and tried again
one more minute would’ve killed it
if only i’d stayed
anyone else would have done it i’m sure
i caused this problem
the midwife at its birth was i
death i mislead when he came to the doorstep
and now the monstrosity lies on my hands

i am guilty as charged
but i am teaching myself to love
all the parts you hate

I found myself hugging my closet this morning
I got up, walked over to her, stood in front of her and stuck my hands between some things hanging,
Put my cheek against the cold plastic of the hangers, and it felt right

Now this sounds strange
But something became quite clear to me when I felt like my closet was hugging back
It's not the things you wear, it's how you wear them
My closet loves me because I wear my clothes freely
I never wore them to please anyone else
That's why when he told me he wanted me to wear something else I said, "No."
Because my fashion is a part of me and it has been
Whether I was in the fourth grade, wearing my lily pad skort, pink Mary Janes and a neon green top
Or in college,
Unapologetically sporting my baggy white tee, ripped jeans, Birkenstocks and socks
I will not submit to you

My clothes love me back because I am not afraid
My closet hugs me back because she knows that I will never again let a man tell me
"That's ugly."
My fashion is my power.
Let it ring from every tower, you will not tell me what I can put on this body ever again
My body is my temple, and it was not built on your land so you can
Shove it

-E (c) 2017

I'm ****** to hell for loving a woman.
But I'll exist in hell for loving a man.

Who am I
Who am I to think that it all will be ok.
When my heart is shattered for the first time
A million pieces on the floor
While I stand up confident and smiling
I'm shuttering and in excruciating pain inside

Who am I
To seem put together
To put on that plastic smile
That makes money and wins hearts
The smile that wins; the smile that takes

Who am I
To crush hearts
But when I myself am crushed
Be surprised at the anguish

Who am I
To just want to touch you
To just want to hold you and feel your warmth
To feel you there in my sleep
To once in my life not feel alone
You can run, you can go
Just a moment more with you would be worth a million heartaches and a million bruises
I'm broken inside, but I'd do it again just to kiss that beautiful face and feel ok for a moment more.


And so I drown into myself. My hard controlling self. But I have to breathe eventually. And I come up--gasping for air-- and pooling my tears around me; I remember how it feels to be broken. Then I pull myself down to drown once more. Covered in my plastic suffocation. I am safe. I will be safe. Blissful suffocation

My ghosts are the ones hiding in the back of my closet, just waiting to come out and show the world who they are, while there is me who gets hold of the key and locks the door so they can't escape....

Like that old sweater
In the back of your closet,
You know the one I'm talking about;
It was your favorite,
You wore it all the time,
And it may not fit right anymore,
But you can't get rid of it,
Well, because it was your favorite
For all these years,
There are so many memories
Tied to that sweater.
And maybe not all of them are happy,
Or make you smile when you wear it,
But it hold the secrets and scars of your past,
So you have to keep it, naturally.
But every time you take that sweater
From the back of your closet to see
If it matches your outfit,
And you decide,
Maybe not today,
You see the faded color,
You see the memories,
And you know, just like your sweater,
You're wearing thin.