for you

for you


you are not made to be admired

made to be filled

made to be cheeks pinched

rosy red

made to be ladylike pretty perfect

made up

looked down.


you are not made to be filled

not waiting on him

not needing your other half

cause girl

you are complete.


not your baby doll,

not your looking good,

not yours to talk down

not yours to make up

not yours to take 


not yours.


you are all your own.

listening vs. hearing

listening vs. hearing

There’s a slight debate about which is more important: having someone hear you or having someone listen to you. People either say “I want to be heard and not just listened to” or, “I want to be listened to and not just heard”.
No matter which one seems deeper to you, there is a same underlying point. The point is, people crave understanding. People want a human connection, they want what they’re trying to say to be understood and taken to heart. We don’t want to be ignored. We don’t want to be forgotten. We don’t want to be background noise in the endless chatter of our lives.



I’m over 3 months clean
my skin is scrubbed over and over until
clean clear veins
untouched, caged away in my skin
i am beginning again.

praise me, watch my growing from outside in.
tell of my becoming, tell of the smile when i learn to laugh
welcome me back, welcome my absent inner attack, praise how big, how loud I’ve become.

I’m over 3 months clean
and it feels like a welcome home.
You are new, and I know you,
and I’ve missed you.

I don’t rely on that crushing force
I don’t cry over you anymore
You closing my own doors,
locking me inside my head.

But I am over 3 months clean.



i don’t know where is safe
all i know is tearing myself down
deconstructing into dust
until i am nothing more.
I’ve been trying to make me new,
a deep breath of space and wind and empty opportunity.
but i leave it up to you.
i can only lay my broken body down
battered and bruised
everyday is a battle, and finally, I don’t want to lose.
I pull myself apart,
looking for a piece of me that fits perfect
to you.
to your edges to my sides.
this is my slow Resurrection, this is my self-made art.



After I close my eyes
Before I open them
Dreams drift past me
Escaping my memory
Floating farther away
Gasping for breath, no oxygen in space, the space i begin to embrace
Hey it’s not so bad, maybe it’s okay
I see where I used to breath free, me with the ginormous need
Just hoping to be the King of the Stars
Loftily, inside, you know you’ll go far
Many times I’ve wondered? But
Now I truly know
Only death escapes you
Pleading for the life you saw as your own foe
Questioning the people around you
Round and round you float
Silent space, will your feet ever touch the ground?
Though you are weary you will never find rest.
Up to the stars
Very far away from where you’re used to.
Whimsical, it all seems like a joke
X-ray pf my own mind, wish i could find
You’re imaginary.

my truth

my truth

my truth has been spread around

i’m tired of hearing all about it

and i hate the person attached to my body

hate the headache in my head

over and over again.

you’re my escape

you’re my heartbreak

and i’m nothing more than hurt .

i fell in love again with the world

for a simple second

but i’m just a sick girl

who says she’s not okay.

now how can she complain?

there’s a part of me

in telling my pain

that maybe i’m only

looking for someone to blame.

what am i, anyway?

just someone who wants get away.

i’m not suicidal for revenge

i’m not suicidal for sympathy

i’m suicidal to end the broken me.

first post

first post

it’s 4:41 on a sunday afternoon. usually i’m getting overwhelmed at how I’ve wasted the day right now. i don’t know what i’m doing with this blog, but we’ll see i guess. i don’t really want people to read this per se, (per say?) it’s probably just going to be a little diary or whatever for myself. i really doubt this will get any attention and that is okay. I just want to be creative again.