Femmes - Blog Posts
idk how to say this properly as a femme, but like…..
there’s a big issue in the sapphic community of sexualizing butches in a super nonconsensual way.
my gf has been grabbed, shoved around, and groped by women who believe her very existence to be some sort of sexual invite. it’s gotten to the point that when we enter a gay space together, i have to be all over her, or else someone assumes something. she says she’s scared of giving compliments or being nice to women because it’s immediately taken as an aggressive come on.
and this isn’t just a straight women thing, i’ve seen SO MANY sapphic women pull this shit. online too. like, butches posting a non-sexual selfie and getting flooded with super intense sexual comments.
you’re being a creep. knock it the fuck off.
Quelques tracés à l'encre de chine :)
Some drawings with ink 🙂
Les femmes ont un coin secret dans leur cœur où elles enfouissent ce qu'elles ne s'avouent pas à elles-mêmes, et jamais les philosophes n'ont fourré le nez dans ce coin-là, bien qu'ils s'en vantent fort...
-Alexandre Dumas.
She’s the calm, the storm, & the equilibrium.
I’ve always found myself in storms, but I tended to resonate in a melancholic manner. Rain, thunder, lightning— they were expressions of my deep emotional nature. However, like most inherent feminine qualities, being “too emotional” felt like a burden to me; like a flaw. In reality, this is just another fallacy women are made to believe. When our emotional nature is understood and cultivated, it is undoubtedly a superpower.
Being feminine looks like
the calm, THE STORM, The Equilibrium.
An evolved continuation of my last poem, “I wanted to feed the flowers, you wanted a flood”.
This version is a from my current self, an ode to my past. This is the divine feminine. The unshakable, wild, intuitive, unapologetic, fierce, overgrown, uninhibited, imperishable feminine nature. ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
A poem to a past version of myself -
I’ve always loved the thunder and rain; much more than the civilized sun.
Maybe because I had a gift for seeing the beauty in where others saw somber.
Perhaps this is why I find the best traits in a person filled with flaws.
The potential spark of light in a body of darkness.
Sure, the sun is loved and known for it’s bright beams;
But lightning cracking in overcast has the same quality.
Does she not deserve to be admired?
When that violet voltage strikes, scurry quickly for you might miss the swift illumination amongst the shadowy sky.
Look! There is some semblance of light!
I try to convince…
If I could reach out and touch that beautiful disaster I would.
Perhaps this is why I’ve repeatedly let charming hazards in to fill me violently.
. . .
I’ve always seen myself in the rain.
In the thunder.
In the lightning.
When I see another filled with rain, filled with thunder— I can’t help but want to create a storm.
Yet what the naïve girl in me failed to see;
I wanted to use the rain to feed the flowers,
You wanted to cause a flood.