Sometimes its so hard for me to see beauty. I feel so blackened, so burnt. Pieces of my skin fall off, and I leave my ashy mark on every path I step foot on. The public bathrooms are my sanctuary; I lift my feet up above the door, and I curl up, and I wait to be alone. I don’t want this world to spin anymore. Why won’t it slow down? Why is everyone out to hurt me? I want to look around and see good people; to allow myself to believe that their smiles aren’t fake. I want to breathe in kindness, authenticity, loyalty. I want to see beauty in the eyes of these ugly people, whose shadows give their burdened hearts away. Continue reading
Why aren’t things different? Better? Fixed? Why is it that when the rain starts, I am still falling down into the dark pits of past trauma? I don’t understand it, why I am still tormented so. I can still remember, physically, the touches that I did not agree to; the fear of making a sound; the emptiness. Continue reading
Look at me. Look me in the fucking eyes. I am here. I am human. I am equal to you.
Look at me.
Listen to the words coming out of my mouth. Or the silent thoughts. The grudges. The venom. The lies. The truths.
Listen to me, hear me. Continue reading
There are pieces of me strewn along the office floor. There are parts of me hiding in the drawers of the guest room. Pieces of me hiding under my bed, thrown into the closets, sleeping under my pillow. Each pile of things represents a different part of me, of my life. They are unorganized and unmindful. They are sad and mean. They are kind and empathetic. They are reaching out to be held. Continue reading
i have dirt under my fingernails
and cracks and ridges where soft skin should be
my hair is pulled up into a messy rats nest
with brittle ends and greasy roots Continue reading
had a bad dream again last night.
i wake up to the back of his neck. i nuzzle my face into his skin and i repeat
i need you
i need you
i need you Continue reading
I will not deny it, things haven’t been so easy as of late. I seem to have slipped into some kind of comfortable sadness; some form of loving loneliness. This is how things used to be, not how they should be now. But I suppose that is the artistry of depression, it cares not for circumstance. Continue reading
it’s not easy saying goodbye. some days, i don’t hurt as much. others, i hurt a lot. i get scared, because goodbyes have always been hard for me. goodbyes have been final. they have meant the end. you turn a … Continue reading
Sometimes I feel like I’m still drowning, and I don’t even know why. I look around this place, my life. I have this beautiful home now. A spacious gem that I never would have imagined I could actually live in. I unpack my things and walk room to room as I try to figure out where everything will go, and then I go up and climb into our new bed and I watch a movie on my new computer. And then I sleep. And I dream. Nightmares.
I am still so scared. Continue reading
A journal entry from late 2012. Continue reading