i love my found family with every fiber of my being. they know the hues and textures of my soul, just as i know their’s.
as i watched my best friend hug her boyfriend today, i saw new love floating in her eyes.
i only write to distract my self from my own self-destructive behavior.
i will die trying to prove my critics wrong.
california’s burning down but all people care about is putting videos of the flames over trending audio for a couple bucks.
”how did you fall in love with him?”
“a hundred days of longing.”
i am here. just that. that all i am now.
i wish happiness and i could get just 5 more minutes together.
i wish that when i saw you for the first time, i would’ve run as fast as i could.
i took a deep breath for the first time in weeks today.
i crave physical touch like a drug. i crave skin to skin, soul to soul kind of touch. i crave interlocking pinkies because i need a little hit. i crave to hug people that do little things for me because it’s the only way i know how to say thank you.
i am not just a feminist, i am a supporter of people.
someone asked me today what made me so good at arguing. i shocked them to silence when i said being a good listener.
i will be screaming until i can no longer make sound.
I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT
i am too full of life for this town. far too ambitious and far too wise. my dreams can’t materialize here.
i would fight for centuries to get my old self back.
as the clock hit midnight last night, i became new and pure. but in the few hours since i woke this morning, i have already been tainted.
all that changed this year was my temper. i am now always terribly angry.
why am i judged for wanting a husband? i don’t want to settle and have ten children, i just want someone who loves every bump, curve, and blemish of me.
today i watched a video from my ring camera of you smashing my potted plants. the ones you gave me.
i would much rather stay inside to do my skincare than go out and party all night. why does that make me a villain?
is my smudged mascara, black mini skirt, bruised knees, red eyes, hungover state aesthetic enough for you?
screaming must be your love language. because you love me but you scream at me every time i blink.
for christmas i got a mind full of rage and a body labeled as a sex object. i guess i was worse this year than i thought.
do you think he’ll fall for frank sinatra at full volume and being wine drunk by 10am?
i will continue screaming at the sky until it can match the rage coursing through my veins.
as the dust settles, all i see is a mutilated version of who i used to be.
i yell at my mother with her same ruthlessness and out-argue my father with his same logic.
i’ll run away from you my whole life if i have to.