a little abstract photography here enjoy! for more check out Where Country Grows Photography on Facebook
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Andulka
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@shineypoetry
a little abstract photography here enjoy! for more check out Where Country Grows Photography on Facebook
learning real love part 5
I didn’t want to care because at the time not only had my dad left, my mom was broken, my best friend slowly started to not care about me and abandoned me for his girlfriend and the man who was supposed to be my boyfriend was gone and I just didn’t see a point in anything anymore.
Almost a month and a half went by and at that point everyone was telling me to give up and move on from him but I didn’t want too, my mind and my heart wanted him. I just thought there was something just so different about him, something that was worth not giving up on,
I know this is going to sound cheesy but someone could of given me a million reasons to give up on him and I still would of found the one reason why I should never give up and I guess you can say I held on that reason through everything.
The Witness Story ( book two of The Mafia Story) - Chapter 8: A new life, A new world (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/UiNb/wZKlmbom3N After the death of her mother and father and becoming head of the mafia and saving her brother from death Riley is having to face something she never thought she'd have to. She is in witness protection and protected by the every same cop who arrested her and she's about to be a mom for the first time. Her name isn't Riley anymore its Albany now and she's dead according to her family and friends and the father of her child but well she stay in the shadows for the sake of her life and her daughter's? or well she be mafia boss again.
A sample of my work for more check out Where Country Grows Photography on facebook.
Pretty Girls
pretty girls don’t cry because it ruins their makeup, pretty girls don’t read books because the don’t want your knowledge to hide your pretty because boys don’t want knowledge they want pretty.
pretty girls have to walk a certain way, dress a certain way, talk a certain way and if they didn’t they are boring or not pretty enough and if they did oh God if they did then they deserved it, they were too pretty, or they were sluts
pretty girls don’t feel the inside of their bodies screaming a warning when he walks up and says hi, they get lost in the kindness of his words and don’t see the darkness in his eyes. Pretty girls don’t tell the truth because the truth makes them unwanted because no one wants anyone willing to tell the truth.
yeah the world loves pretty girls. pretty quiet girls, pretty skinny girls, pretty undressed girls, pretty willing girls, pretty drunk girls. pretty lost girls pretty longing girls, pretty dead girls.
But what happens when we are no longer quiet, when we are no longer willing when we are no longer lost, when we are no longer longing for answers to questions that people want to make disappear?
when we are no longer longing for the acceptance that we are so desperate to find? What happens when we no loner hate each other, when we no longer hate ourselves and the bodies we are in and we are not just souls walking around with ghosts of who we used to be or how we want to be remembered? Does that mean we are no longer pretty?
Being the worlds kind of pretty comes at a cost and sometimes the price for that is our lives in more ways than one and we don’t deserve that cost to be our lives, we don’t deserve to be defined by a word that could cost us our lives.
being pretty. being called pretty yeah its nice but so many bad things tell lies, so many bad people lie, so many secrets we have to hide just for that 6 letter word. Who knew it could mean so much and cost so much for a girl to hear that word.
Pretty girls don’t lie, pretty girls its ok to cry, pretty girls know your worth, its ok to be hurt, its ok to be strong. The world loves its kind of pretty girls but its ok to not be that girl.
5-21-18
you just can't make this stuff up - Chapter 2 (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/UiNb/nRiqWhwB2N my guide to my messed up life
confessions of a fat girl
Growing up I was always told you are pretty for a fat girl and I always took it as a compliment until I got older and I quickly figured out that they were saying fat girls aren't supposed to be pretty so I was lucky that i was a fat girl and still could be pretty, why do I have to be pretty for a fat girl? Why can't I just be pretty?
because has a fat girl I am supposed to be ashamed of how I look and be careful of what I wear because fat girls can't wear what normal people wear and then people get surprised when they make something cute in my size, when did being fat mean I am not normal? When did fat mean my clothes are supposed to be ugly?
They say "fat girls need love too" like that is something new, well guess what I figured out a long time ago that I deserve love too I just don't need it from people like you.
They say as A fat girl confidence and self love is a thing that's never heard that I am just to fall in love with any man who speaks to me's sweet words, but what if his touch isn't sweet? And his kiss is forced across my cheek? I'm just supposed to accept that because I am told to be weak?
But what you don't understand is my self love speaks volumes that you can't hear because you didn't have to work to get your mind to love yourself here so no I am not going to accept any weak man with a hard touch but a real man who makes my heart flutter and rush and brings a smile to my face because that is what I deserve more than just sweet words.
And as far as confidence goes mine can take me on a world tour, you can try to step to me but my balls are bigger than yours. Because thing is I am not into this stereotype, my worth is not based on my dress size or if there is a gap between my thighs, my worth is more than all the stars in the sky and I am aloud to get high off of my own life and I am aloud to respect myself you know that's right and I am aloud to see myself new a whole new light and I am aloud these confessions I type, stories I write I am aloud my life, a happy life. I am rare, raw and so unsure these are confessions of a fat girl.
3-11-18
We spend far too much time making love harder than it has to be rather than focusing on the future that we both used to see.
-Samuel Decker Thompson @adudewritingpoetry
The second edition of my book, Our Fucked Up Hearts, a nearly 300 page collection of poetry, is now available via Barnes & Noble or the Amazon link below https://www.amazon.com/dp/1539545016/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_apa_P-QHzbBDT7MMN
learning real love part four
fell off the face of the planet just like everyone else in my life he got what he wanted and left, I felt like he didn’t care, I felt that no one cared and because in my mind no one did and at the time it broke my heart more than it already was
but I didn’t expect anything different to be honest, I thought I deserved it, I thought it was a punishment for something that I did and I took that punishment and became careless with myself,
careless with my actions. I started drinking a little more every night and hanging out with the wrong people and going places with those people that I shouldn’t have been and didn’t belong but I didn’t care,
learning real love part three
Anyway I meant him on a dating site and we talked until 4am in the morning the very first night we talked. We had our first date at the beginning of September of 2015 and I didn’t know what would be in store all I know is I fell way too fast and way too hard for someone
for two people who were so broken and had no idea what love is but I guess that is what broken people do they fall in love with people who they think make them feel just a little less broken.
Well little did I know at the time he was falling in love with me just as fast and I guess that scared me and I guess just like anyone who gets scared he ran, he ran from me.
learning real love part two
So after I broken up with him of course I turned to the one thing that people now a days think is where you find love, the internet and of course that is not what I found at first.
I found all of the guys that wanted what I didn’t want to give them and I wanted something that I couldn’t even give myself.
After a month of being on dating site after dating site after dating site I found a person who was just as broken as I was and at the time I didn’t know it was going to last this long and teach me so much but he did but you’ll learn that later on.
learning real love part one
My mom and dad got divorced when I was 19 and that broke me because the only love I knew for 19 years was gone, done, shattered but you know what broke me even more?
was if it was love, if it was real, true, meant to be, God sending love it wouldn’t of shattered so easily after 19 years and then some it wouldn’t of shattered so easily.
so I couldn’t help but to wonder what that meant for my future relationships and wonder just what love was between a man and a woman what love really meant because for 19 years
of what I thought was love obviously was not and on top of all that the man I was with at the time I broke up with because how could I love him or at the time say I love him when every single idea of love was gone if it even was there in the first place.
The Play
Act one
Everyone is speaking out loud while I daydream in solitude, thinking about my words carefully before i said them to you.
Before i said them to anyone. I grew up hanging on to every word anyone has ever said to me my mom calls it owning their words
I call it remembering what not to say so no one feels the way i did when those words were said to me so i guess you can say its the same thing.
You see i have always watched my words carefully, timed them perfectly like a little imaginary script i wrote in my head for myself
And every conversation was a play that i was the main star in but no one would listen. I was just a door mat that people would walk over
Because my words were so perfect that when i said i was ok people believed it because i was so strong people could see it
And stopped bothering to ask it. But of course that was a lie but the truth was apart of the script that never made the cut.
So i would put on my make up covered smile and walk out on stage and acted out my little play and everyone would applaud and say how great i am
But when the curtain would close only the mirror saw how sad i am. I would wipe off the make up the real me would appear
Tears follow nice and clear, my words would blur through the pages as the shower would wash away all the red stained regrets
But everyday i would get up on stage and my melody of broken words and fake smiles would dance off my lips.
Act 2
But one day something changed, people started to see that the act was just that, and my make up covered words
and make up covered smile was wiped off on stage and the person I played on that stage began to disappear and the stage did too,
I guess because I noticed that the people I was putting on the play for didn't and were not gonna stay, they just bought tickets
and not lifetime passes but in my eyes they both looked the same.
10-12-17
Haunted
Ever since i was little i knew ghost existed, i knew it was possible to see things and feel things that were not there, But i never understood why they haunted people until i got older you see i think those lost souls live off of memories And when that memory gets stuck in your head it gets easy to confuse the living with the dead and thats when you become haunted. Haunted by their laughter, haunted by their smile, haunted by the way they made you feel, haunted by the words that replay over and over in your head, its easy to become haunted by the living and the dead. I am haunted by you and the words you left behind everyday they cross my mind But i guess the real torture and what gets me running for the hills is the words you kept sealed Like the reason why you disappeared, why your lies sounded like the most beautful song in my ears and i get it confused and think you are still here. The thing is you are still here, you still have a life you are just no longer in mine, i have to the lost of of a life that is still alive. I am haunted by you and sometimes I wonder if you are haunted by me too.
A quote from my poem called my poetry
My mom
Half 100% Colombian, a shot of espresso three sugars and 5 caramel macchiatos, stir it and whipped cream on the top Thats the way she likes her coffee, she wakes up and makes her a cup and sometimes never drinks it all as she breaths in the air of the day And puts the weight of the world on her shoulders like a coat in the dead of winter ready to charge hell with a water pistol Like she always does. She takes the broken pieces of whats left and creates a smile out of them, she can create a smile out of anything. She has always puts everyone else over her, she did what she could to create the person i am, and yes she is not without her battle scars, Her marks of war across her heart but let me tell you, that woman is fire dancing across the coals underneath her feet making look so easy, You see she is my mother and I try to be the best I can be so she can say she is proud of someone like me. 9-15-17