Can you do me a favor?
can you kindly stop talking to me
Your rude and inappropriate comments need to stop
im tired of allowing you to get away with the way you talk down to me
simply because i feel sorry for you
You know, being that you’re a new father and all
i can only imagine what its like for you at home
Your wife’s giving all her attention to the baby
the sleepless nights
no recognition for your hard work
it must feel like you’ve lost your sense of control in your own home
and what better way to regain that power than to belittle those with a lesser ranking than you
and even more so, those that you feel like you can get away with talking to, like the way you do to me.
i remember one of the first times you said something to me.
I was new to the department, and things weren’t exactly in my favor
considering i was filling a mans shoes while he was away on vacation.
A strong, hard working man who knows the ins and outs of being a stocker.
Hell, if he really wanted to i wouldn’t doubt his ability to re stock the entire department by himself
This wasn’t an equal opportunists position. I physically did not have the strength to meet the demands that this position so heavily weighed on every employee.
No wonder they place all the females in clothing department, its the lightest department by weight of merchandize. and who better to give the tedious workings of folding clothes to than someone who already bears the responsibility to day in and day out inside their own home.

So, here you come along, and rather than helping me to play catch up while i build the  physical strength to keep up and critique the skills that are required to make my work presentable and worth noticing, you continued to put me down for being the weakest link.
I brushed it off
Directed my frustration towards simply just doing a better job than the day before.
One day at a time, id tell myself. Things will get easier.  
I can go back to that same position today and clearly note the improvements that I’ve surpassed within my own expectations. If we are to be fair, i owe in part, some of that success to my ability to translate your snooty comments into something pro active and constructive.
If i had just spoken up then, maybe it wouldn’t have gotten as far as its gotten today.
Maybe
just maybe,
if i had the courage to stand up for all of the things that you represent. All the things that reminds me of a dark past of being taking advantage of without the power or consciousness to say otherwise.
Maybe -
just maybe ..
but just like that night that still strikes me into paralysis, i become stiffened as your words take advantage of me, only this time i’m awake to feel every jab. Just like that night, those around me are misguided by your ability to a likable person. They don’t question who you are and what you're capable of, because how could you? You are a hard working manager, you make people laugh, and you clearly have a way with your words. Imagine if this had been 2008, when i was still deeply broken and unable to rationalize between what is true, and what you want me to believe is true. Imagine, if i had not yet invested so many years into growing my self worth, my self esteem. Unable to look at myself in the mirror and realize that i have so much to live for and that the exact person that i am today is exactly enough to be whoever i want to be.
I would already be dead.
My soul would have suffocated and be rotting away inside of me.
I would be a walking zombie. Any self esteem would have been re programed into self doubt and hatred towards myself for not being liked by someone who should be encouraging me to be better.
But im not that person.
Unfortunately, you only get ***** once.
After that it's just an attack on the body you once thought was you.
I am no longer this body, and your words cannot hurt the foundation that I’ve constructed, literally, from the ground up.
I am much more than that. I am everything that you fail to see because you’re so busy being demoralized by your own darkness that feeds your mind into thinking that you’re not good enough. It spills out of you and spreads like a disease to others that don’t have the proper vaccinations to resist it. Just know, that you’ll fall way before i even begin to feel weak. You’ll slowly begin to cave in, and your walls will crush you to the bottom.
To the
cold
hard
rock bottom.
And then,
only then -
you can come talk to me.

Peeling off my layers
In front of you in the naked glazers
No blazers
Oh, anxiety grows in the air
Can I now retreat to my normal flair?
Before I opened bare
My body sheltered in shame
Tasted lame
Ruined a good name
Mind gambling in games
Hands twitch and fidget
Into directions anyone cannot forget
Warmth is not enough
To smoothen the roughs
If I cannot withstand all the melodrama,
Can you be my anesthesia?
Since exists in my head is an everlasting psychedelia
Tiptoeing on shards of firearms
May I weep in your frail arms?
Do it mean harm?
Will my skin not switch into a smoke alarm?
Will I be able to be vulnerable?
Defenseless surrender
Before the wars turn into murders
And not alter to *****
When nowhere left to release the fumes
When to breathe as a chrysanthemum
When I still cannot find an asylum?
Defeating my memoir
In the phase of searching a livewire
Since I lived once in a birdhouse
Where it is already wall-tight and always a full house
I know I am afraid, for no correct steps are laid
Please
I am already a regret
Now, do not fret
Exhibiting my secret is equal to losing to an opponent
Faith to me is blind
Especially when you are not in right mind

perfection; the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects.

something that has haunted me my whole life or should i say i’ve haunted it my whole life...
i’m the one who is chasing it
it has what i want
i’ve chased it to exhaustion
but it has want i want
self fulfillment...satisfaction...
so many questions
when i look in the mirror, i wonder
my belief of everyone expecting perfection and nothing less has corrupted my mind..
it has rotted my self esteem
the reason being acceptance
a desire of being desired
terrified of rejection
i torture myself wanting to reach perfection
self-destruction  
i hate perfection
perfection is an illusion
but we crave satisfaction.

I can’t.
I can’t take this,
I can’t feel good,
I won’t be good,
It’s never enough.

I jump in, and swim till I drown
I slice my wrists, I pour out the blood till I’m empty
I hold on till my fingers refuse to uncurl
I drive not only till the car runs out of gas, but piece by piece it begins to fall apart

just like me.
I’m falling apart, waiting for someone to piece me back together.
I gather the pieces myself, but my glue isn’t enough.
I need something stronger, I need to be someone stronger.

I want someone to tell me I’m enough. I want to feel needed.
I self-loathe, I self-pity, I hide behind a false sense of humor and confidence.
Underneath it all is nothing.
Complete, utter emptiness.
We say we’re empty, numb, but what does that mean?
We all feel, whether it be purely happiness or hurt, regardless of how numb.

Emptiness is not simply feeling nothing. It’s feeling as if you’re nothing.

i'll cut my hair
and mark my lips with blood
am I beautiful yet?

i'll grow my hair
i'll bleed I swear
am I beautiful yet?

my nails are long
enough to cut
scars deep enough
for these diamonds

and I don't get diamonds
i'm not beautiful
and god I hate my hair..

can't i just have nice hair....?

tell me, how did it feel when my foot pierced your chest
when i told you to get off of me
tell me, was it hard when i told you no
when i made you realize that you are not the owner of my body
that you do not get to decide what choices i can and can not make
please, in full detail, for everyone in attendance, explain how your heart slowed when i proudly exclaimed “stop, do not touch me”
because i am not your property
somehow, i don’t remember signing the lease over to you
my shorts length is not a public property sign
saying “all are welcome”
because with my hand on a tarot deck, i will proudly exclaim that “my body is mine” that my words and decisions will not change unless i want them to
and maybe one day, i will allow someone to sign a lease and borrow the title
but today, i get to keep the pen

I am a walking talking
Mother doctor wife machine
My wild spirit chained into stillness
By loving hands

Look at these small bodies
Nesting on my lap
Feeding off my body my mind

The people in hospital beds
Looking for the solution
To all their troubles

His hands on my body
Exploring his own desire
Drawn onto my body

Which part of me is mine?

Would you love me if i was covered in scars?
If I was always sad?
If I couldn't commit?
Would you love me if i couldn't love myself?
Because i love you even though your heart is broke.
When you say you cant go on.
When you lose control.
I love you for who you are.
Can you learn to love me?
Even though i dont love myself I would hope that you could love me for what i am.