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Archive for April, 2014

Wind whistles through the leaves

Whispering condemnations and judgments

Chattering, screeching, confusion

From above and all sides

As she stumbles through the woods

 

Roots of the established earth trip her

Almost as if with purpose

She does not take the time to brush off

The gathering dirt and debris

Increasing her burdens to bear

 

Lost alone afraid

Clutching what is hidden tightly in her hands

Reluctant to release yet knowing the necessity

She must find a place

Free from prying eyes

 

A towering tree proud with age and strength

How she wishes she could be

Is where she finally stops

Breath hitching and gasping for relief

Searching left and right to assure solitude

 

Kneeling down in the soft mossy earth

She digs with her fingers grasping desperately

Once at desired depth she reverently reaches for

Her hidden treasure

 

Taking one last long and pained look

She carefully sets her cloth-wrapped heart in the earth

Burying it beneath the watchful guardian

Where it will be safe and hidden

Until she decides to retrieve it

 

And so she walks away

Empty

darkforest

 

-Me

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Dark Waters

Swirling dark waters undulate before me

My bare feet sink into the cool, wet grass

Lightly dusted with dew and memories

 

My toes dig into the blades with slight reluctance

As if wanting to linger on the moments

But my resolve pushes me forward

 

I reach the edge of the river

Looking into its blackness I see ripples of our past

Fading in and out as scenes and seasons

 

Slowly I submerge myself in the depths

Sinking, submitting

And as I drink in the waters willingly

You begin to fade away

Until I am falling into blackness

My mind washed away with the waves

Disappearing into…

 

lethe

 

-Me

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I am sick of the slut-shaming from people that have known me my entire life. I’m sick of the judgmental condescension and refusal to take time to understand how I feel. It’s thanks to people like them that try to make women feel badly about their bodies and being confident enough to share intimate parts of their character whilst still having an element of mystery.
I share private thoughts in my poetry to expose pieces of my soul for others to read and identify a part of themselves in my work. That’s what being an artist is all about.
And when you’ve endured constant criticism and bullying about your appearance from peers and family, damn right I’m going to share photos of myself that I’m proud of in an attempt to re-wire my thoughts to try and believe that I’m beautiful and worthy of love.

No wonder I’m so messed up inside. It’s because of people like you that shame me into feeling badly about who I am as a person and woman of independence, individuality, and strength.
And you wonder why I distance myself from people like you.

 

(When it comes to personal feelings, I usually post them on my blog in the form of poems, but recent events made me too angry to make it poetic. I’ll leave my rant at that.)

Pulling Hair Out

 

-Me

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