All Writing & Art, Poetry. Prose. Letters.

a life called survival

i didn't ask to be taken like that, all young, innocent and easily-broken into any mold of life they offered or insisted upon. i never wanted to be shaped to become the easy play-thing they desired, on any given day. i didn't change to make life harder for you, or for them, or for me.… Continue reading a life called survival

All Writing & Art, Poetry. Prose. Letters.

In the Mirror (my worst days)

This is what it feels like on my worst days. This is what I see in the mirror when my ptsd/trauma/depression/anxiety/abuse memory is taking a firm grip.  I created this partly during a moment of feeling all this, partly while sitting outside of the feeling, observing it. But I put it to one side in… Continue reading In the Mirror (my worst days)

All Writing & Art, Poetry. Prose. Letters.

truth.

  There is a longing within. It sits somewhere between desire and pain.  It dances with me, Twisting and twirling around the loops of my veins.  It knows how to pull me into deep despair and then quickly leads me to blackened paradise.  It grows, quickly, like a seedling reaching for the light, Touching with… Continue reading truth.