June 2013
3 posts
May 2013
10 posts
April 2013
7 posts
writing is safer, somehow
because my pen cannot stutter like my lips do,
and words get stuck in throats,
not fingertips, can’t stumble
on paper trails of blue lines
because writing is definite and clear
and no one can tell if i am crying
or laughing
through written words alone
“When women scream you wonder what’s wrong with them. When men yell you get afraid about what they’re going to do.”
—A girl in my creative writing class said this in response to a story we read about witnessing intimate partner violence and it really fucked with my head because I’ve never, ever, ever, thought of it that way. (via god-cumplex)
March 2013
27 posts
What am I doing with my life?
There needs to be a code word or something that means “my brain is fighting me every step of the way today and I feel like I’m going to vibrate out of my skin, so I need you to forgive everything and go slowly and speak softly and lower your expectations.” And then we could all just be like, “I know I said we could go to a movie tonight but… tangerines.” And the other person would nod and squeeze your elbow or rub your head and you wouldn’t feel like a failure.
we are always waiting for something
for it to be the weekend, to be finished school,
till summer, till we are 18.
we are always god damn waiting
and what’s sad is we miss every beautiful
moment in the ‘present’ because we spend our whole
lives waiting for tomorrow and for the future
we end up skipping our whole lives
and one day we will spend our last day
waiting on a tomorrow that will never come.
February 2013
18 posts
I’m ready to grow up, but the world says no.
