#thingsiwrite

[playing-the-villain]

Cracks Remain

I throw myself against the wall

I can’t help but let these tears fall

My skin is fragile like porcelain, shattered

In my past all the shards were scattered

I’ve been trying to reassemble 

Those monsters took the pieces while I trembled

I’ve been desperately searching for a way to fix it

Nothing seems to fit, I don’t fit

I thought if I contributed to the pain

If I helped them break me, made my blood rain

Then maybe I would be able to understand why 

Years later I still can’t find a remedy 

Although I am stronger now, for myself I can fight 

There is still darkness in the light

In my skin I see the cracks will always remain

All I see in everyone’s eyes is disdain

I can’t shake this feeling that I will never be good enough

That I will only ever feel hands that are rough

That a gesture as kind as a hug will never have good intentions

That I will only see damaged goods in the reflection

I’m fine, I’ll be okay, I’ve survived Hell

Can you really love a broken girl? I’m trying to as well

[jlalafics]

Love walking through the Mission. Gives me major “Two Wrongs” vibes. (at Mission District, San Francisco, CA)

[t-writes]

we are gathered here today to hold open the ears of all the men in my life and pour into them all the complaints I have been telling them for countless turns of broken clocks.

how can they choose to not listen now when their patience will become stretched as thin as mine has

[tmilky]

structure (bodily, poetic, mental)

in increments, she seeps in; like invitations to this pity party were sent in cryptic parts - she didn’t know when to show up and when to leave

and in the sun she tells me i’m worth buckets of what i was in the cold, and she puts herself “in my shoes” and says it could have been worse and then i tell her she never looked after me so what can she tell me about my body and it’s value (that never seems to rise) and she shouts and tells me irrational thinking will be the death of me

it doesn’t take long for me to tell her, that she is all of my insecurity bundled into something i had to breathe life into because i did not want to take the blame for my own self destruction.

for all i am is because she is and she will never stop being whilst i am too - and all my thoughts merge into those cryptic invitations.

when you feel dirty dirty dirty she gets down with you. the guilt pierces the roof of your mouth. i am so tainted, her piercings feel a fiery flavour of numb.

- 21:28 - 30/06/17

[dancalidlr]

"Personally I don't like being an adult. Being an adult comes with a price. You're starting to become aware of the reality and before you know it you have lost your dreams, chasing after stability and security, and they become your new dreams. That's how I see it. So I don't consider myself as an adult even though my age says so. I want to be an adult that follows my dreams just like a teenager. Stay innocent, be naive, but still dream big. Dream big to the point that it is beyond your ability and endeavor to achieve it. So dream big and don't lose your innocence.

a translation of what Min Yoongi said to Park Jimin when Jimin turned twenty

[isokonarian-blog]

He said he found heaven, In between my thighs. But there was no god. Just waves of pleasure, Bright, blinding colors, And brown skin. He said he loved the way I arched my back. So, on that curve he built the Milky Way. But, there were no stars. No celestial bodies. Just brown skin. My hands held him. My mouth spoke words, Without any words. I sang to him; Songs of him, And me. Of the heaven in between, and my brown, brown skin.

[playing-the-villain]

A Voice

The truth I hold took years to unfold, locked up and never told. Now I speak, for I am done being weak. I think back to when it happened, that awful day The day he took "it" away.

To this day I feel him, his tight grip on my wrists the pressure of his body, as I tried to resist.

My heart was a two ton brick in my fist That kept me pinned to the exact spot on the ground he wanted me to be in. Holding back panicked breaths like other kids held stuffed animals Sinister smiling eyes, venom spit splashed across my limbs. Years later my sheets are still soaked, trembling with the sound of my own frozen voice.

Wandering the streets, giving myself to men with sheets. Crying while we fuck, gasping for air the more they struck. If I didn't say no, then maybe I could have some control. I gave myself for free, it was him that broke me. No respect for myself, no metal to place on a shelf. Falling down to dirt, clothes stained, bloody skirt. The cold making me shiver, drinking vodka and damaging my liver. Why should I care about my life? Here I go carving myself with a knife. Blood dripping down my thigh, hatred fills me like a high. I am not dead, just hanging by a thread. Pound my body, until my tears turn red.

All numb, can't feel a thing I can finally believe for a second... Their hands aren't his.

I did survive this life, I have now retired my knife. Scars still there, people look at them and stare. Smiling to all, putting my hands out to break my fall. I would like to share my voice, it's up to me to make that choice.

[tinasartlife]

Here's another mind rambling, in honor of our loved ones. 💙💚💜💛🧡 >>>>>>>> #mindramblings #thingsiwrite #notreallypoetry #tinasartlife #wordsarepowerful #wordsoninstagram (at Reno, Nevada) https://www.instagram.com/p/CiMJ3pHr0W-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=