Evolve

Evolve from the hurt
There is always pain when it comes to transformation

Alive

People amuse me in the sense that they are oblivious to life itself
And that they choose to be ignorant so that they may not suffer
Don’t they know that suffering is the only damn thing in this mad world
That makes us feel alive?
So very alive

Foreign

Don’t ask me if I am happy
I’ve never known what that is
It’s a foreign term
My mind can’t comprehend
I am made of too much darkness to ever feel that
And I have accepted it
This is who I am
And I am proud to be me

Ana

As my bones began to show
My hunger faded
Until I did not recognize my own reflection
Ana praised me and she encouraged me
To make the number on the scale lower
She was in control
Where was I?
The happy girl I once knew
A skeleton with sad eyes stared back at me
If Ana’s voice could be silenced then I would stop
I knew I was hurting myself but her voice was so strong
Then one day came where all my strength was gone
And I realized she was wrong
I decided to fight her because she could not teach me
To love myself
Only I could choose to love all of me
It is still a battle to this day
But my bones no longer show
And I do not believe Ana’s lies

Closed Door

If they walked out the door
Do not open it
When they come back knocking

Bleed Ink

If you want to write poetry
You have to learn to bleed in ink

4 Am Thoughts

You act like me feeling too much is a bad thing

Little Girl

Some days I want to heal
Some days I don’t
The trauma and abuse I faced while young is a part of me
It makes me who I am
Who will I be if I move past it?
The thought of it terrifies me
Just like the little girl inside of me

Black Thing

I wake up with this black thing inside me
I go throughout the day with this black thing inside me
And I go to sleep with this black thing inside me

Mornings with Plath

I do not like small talk
Nor people who have no depth
I like to be alone to explore my mind
I write poetry, letters and stories
On a typewriter
I read Jane Austen’s novels
I listen to Sylvia Plath’s poetry
On a record player each morning
I do my makeup like a pinup girl
I dress like I am Audrey Hepburn
A classic of her time
I pride myself in learning
Rather than dating, drinking and the millennial mind
I do not associate with those who lack integrity
Nor those who do not do their part in society
I was not meant to be born in this era
I wish I could go back in time
This is the lonely life of an old soul like mine