A heart is not
A stable foundation to build
A home on

I am not a demon you need to fight

There’s daggers underneath my skin where he used to touch me

Dear Taft,
It’s been a while since we’ve last talked. I wanted to write you this last time letting you know that I’m sorry. Not facetiously like I have said in the past. This apology isn’t drenched in self pity. I realized this whole time I had been selfish and I was too blinded by my pain and heartache to realize it. I thought you owed me something. I thought you were my reward for my long suffering. I wanted you to be the light at the end of my dark tunnel. I spent a chunk of the past few years, building a new reality around you. For three years, you had the starring role in all my fantasies. Then I found out about her. That was that day I learned I truly had a heart because I felt it shatter for the first time. There were many times I wanted to die and was sure I was going to. If it wasn’t you who was loving me, then what was the point. I spent days paralyzed in heartache and nights sleeping on pillows drenched in my agony because you didn’t love me. I knew it was unfair for me to expect so much from someone who was not only older than I was but also in a position that there was no possibility for us to be together, however I didn’t care. Me being young and naive, wanted to throw caution to the wind and deal with things as they came. I knew better, but love was an intoxicating new feeling that engulfed my whole life. I wanted you, by any means necessary, even if that meant almost killing myself in attempts to coax a reaction out of you. I thought you were a jerk when you didn’t even flinch when I said I wanted to end my life, but now I know that I was the one who was wrong for trying to manipulate a reaction out of you. You were important to me and I wanted so desperately to be important to you, that I misconstrued every moment together into something it was not. I’m not that fifteen year old girl anymore. I realized that you walking out that door for the final time wasn’t the worse thing that happened to me. The worse thing that happened to me was the loss of the person I could’ve been if I hadn’t become so consumed with a person that didn’t love me. I hope you’re happy, but at the same time I don’t care. I thought to be over you it meant I had to be happy for you, but I was so caught up with being happy for you I forgot to be happy for myself. So it’s time I started deconstructing that dream that was centered around you and start building it around myself


Goodbye letter to Taft

Letters to Addresses Unknown 

Daddy Issues

I raise my glass to the girls
Who have no one to give ties to on Father’s day

To the girls who had to clean off their own knees
When life knocked them down 

To the girls who moaned out “daddy” in ecstasy
Hoping that she could find her father in the hearts
Of a men she barely knows

To the girls who had to dry their own tears

To the girls who are slowly retracing the steps of their fathers 
Trying to find the self esteem that he
Walked out the doors with

And a special toast to the girls 
Who are slowly rebuilding
The Rome that is her spirit

Wouldn’t it be nice if people we randomly stumbled upon, had a bigger role in our lives? Like in a book or movie, you randomly see an attractive stranger and little did you know they would actually be an integral part to your story. But unfortunately life doesn’t work that way.  Sometimes a hot stranger is just that, a stranger.

I made a blog called “Humans of Tumblr” please follow, promote and submit a photo with a significant story. http://humansoftheinternet.tumblr.com/

To look at your photo
And feel nothing
Is that what freedom feels like

The church taught me a lot of things
Like to say your prayers and 
To be wary of red men carrying pitchforks
But no one told me that
These men could be disguised in
Buttoned up collared shirts and
Thousand watt smiles
Wrapped up nicely in all your hopes and dreams

There was no scripture warning me that 
These wolves masquerading in sheep clothing
Would be simultaneously everything I wanted 
And everything that would end up destroying me
And that there were daggers hidden within the depths of their voices
And their words was like a cocktail of bittersweet poison
That I would indulge heavily thinking it was
The remedy that was keeping me alive
When really it was what was killing me 

Would any of your lovely people like to send me a writing prompt?

Depression is like
Being left out in the rain
With no umbrella 

You can feel the raindrops 
Beat down on your skin like bullets
And the winds pierce your skin 
Like bullets 

The sky was crystal clear blue, without a cloud in sight. It was almost like the sky had cleared itself for her entrance. The sun was beaming brightly and beating down on my skin like a thousand daggers. I thought it was down right inappropriate and disrespectful to be honest that the sun would have the audacity to shine so brightly on such a gloomy day. My mother excused it by saying it was heaven’s way of smiling because they just received a new angel. She believes in that bullshit. I leave her to do so peacefully. I guess we all need something to believe in to get us through the rough days. At this point I don’t know what I believe in, especially on days like this. We were sitting on the porch waiting for father to come home. We had to tell him, but telling him over the phone seemed tacky. While sitting there, a sudden darkness engulfed the sky. Maybe that was the earth’s way of giving a moment of silence. A sudden emptiness consumed me, followed by a pang at the bottom of stomach. I got up thinking that maybe a drink would subside it. I turned to look at the sky once more. The darkness had let up and a slight breeze passed through me. She was gone now, but the sun was still here.

The sky was grey the last day I saw you. The clouds hung low and were heavy, almost as if they wanted to rain but couldn’t for some reason. I empathized because that’s exactly how I felt. My heart hung low and felt heavy and I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. An overwhelming numbness washed over me. I walked to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. I banged until someone opened it only to find you rapidly approaching . This was it. These were our last few seconds together. I knew I needed to make it count. Should I tell you I love you? Should I try and hug you? We only had seconds left, I needed to make it count. But all I could muster up was measly bye in which you replied absentmindedly  “See you later,” as you continued walking away. But we both knew the truth that there wasn’t going to be a later following that day. I watched as you faded away, wanting to hit myself for not saying more. I should have told you I loved you. I should have told you that it was killing me that you were leaving. That I knew it wasn’t my place and it would be ridiculous for me to ask you to stay just for me, but to ask you anyway. Because I needed you to be there with me. Even if our relationship consisted of trivial little conversations in the morning and shared glances when passing each other, I love you and would accept those bits and pieces you would give me of yourself. But all that came out was a bye as I stood in the doorway feeling insignificant and as low as the clouds. 

I am not your tampon
I will not stop your bleeding
Just for you to throw me away

They lied
Things didn’t get better