Typical

I'm Blossom. I'm a 21 year old college student from NYC. Like most 21 year olds (and most New Yorkers) I'm equal parts self-centered & insecure. I write short stories and poetry about everything I've ever seen. Enjoy

[skinnyseanny]

[feministism]

[blossomspeaks]

Black Americans have never stopped being a lucrative commodity. The end of slavery never signified the start of our freedom. But how could I explain that to such innocent souls? How could I explain to them the weight of history that was in embedded in such a word, in such a dismissal of historical understanding? In that moment very moment, thousands of miles from home, I straddled the true American demon. I was face-to face with the dangers of consumerism. I was faced with a conglomerate of innocent children who had not yet come to understand that they were pawns in a system that justifies the sale and exploitation of our freedom and fight for justice.

[blossomspeaks]

I’ve learned that to have a pussy,

Means accepting the frivolity

Of never being

Seen,

With zero catch attached.

I’m trapped between lust

And my reality.

I’m trapped between repression

And sensuality.

I’m trapped between me

And my ever treacherous body.

The body that has served me

And the wild brain that hurts me

By never learning it’s place.

[blossomspeaks]

Logic, faith, hope, reasoning, spirituality, knowledge are all a part of the human experience. They are complex neurological workings that provide musical insight on the mundane rhythm of life. And I'm having to unlearn all of the Eurocentric ideologies that were forced on to me. The ideology that people of color were slaves to their emotions, hyper-suspicious beings bound by hundreds of years of incorrect assumptions, hindered by their own delicacies. Eurocentrism forced us into a role we unknowingly abide by, believing that our thought, our intuitions and our culture makes us incapable of making complex decisions. They told us true intelligence would be obtained through the distance we created between us and our intuition.  But they were wrong. We are magic.

[blossomspeaks]

At night it all comes out. At night, it all comes out Of me. My fear of being alone My fear of being committed My fear of drifting, drifting Without anywhere to go.

[prettyvanillabean]

I’m too difficult to deal with. And I’ve learned to accept the Loss Of the love I’ll never know.

So I place the blame

On my difficulties.

Knowing the loss of You,

Was me.

[blossomspeaks]

As much as I crave it, it scares me Intimacy. The thought that you and I Could be worth something more Than the whisper of a memory I thought I held before

[blossomspeaks]

You lashed me with your words But I was lucky enough to have Your love. Your fists. I had you. I had the burn of a man who could Torment me endlessly. You loved me When I was too crazy To be loved by another. And no matter how far my journey Takes me, there still exists a tiny piece That needs to be strangled By your love Again.

[blossomspeaks]

I call for you aimlessly Chasing the wind Pounding My heart in Confusion and loss. It is the way My life intended. Lost and in pain yet Still looking For you

[blossomspeaks]

Come to me. Like the green outside my window Awaiting the summer rain My eager soul is Thirsty for you. Drench me with your thoughts. Soothe me with your words. I’m ready to take you on.

[blossomspeaks]

What do I have within me That makes me so Forgettable? I only want to be Remembered By you.

[blossomspeaks]

I’m not poetic. The words do not flow out Of me With a jagged contemplation. I cannot bring weeping tears Of love And admiration From the souls I wish to touch. Me, I’m just a loner I'm looking for someone To love.

[blossomspeaks]

I don’t want to love. I don’t want to be consumed by lust. I only want to trust That parts of me, with you, are safe. And sadly, you can’t understand How anyone can be so afraid of love, so demanding of the “trust” That they can’t That I can’t, Allow myself to feel At all.

[blossomspeaks]

Mon cou et Ma bouche c’est tout Que tu veux. La douleur et La tristesse C’est suffisant. Et pendant Je souffre, tu te sens Vivant.

[blossomspeaks]

You’re all pricks, you know. It’s true And unfair and I’m shamed with sharing The air with you. ‘Cause it’s yours. The world is yours You gigantic bore. It revolves around you. And me? I’m just a Disposable pawn In your abundant life of play. But what can I say? I’m still going to fuck you Anyway.

[blossomspeaks]

I’ve had some fun with enough boyfriends to know that fidelity is a concept not applicable to causalities. It’s the tragedy Of life the tragedy of you And I.