Every Time I Look In The Mirror Its Someone New Who Stares Back At Me.

I saw on pinterest this post of (I think) a tumblr post of a poem. one of the lines went "I see love in everything, love sees everything in me." I am not sure who this person is (lmk if yall know) but they deserve credit for my new affirmation: I see love in everything, everything sees love in me.

For I am become the great pretender betrayer of a youthful me

As I pretend not to be bothered by my bff who questions 'why wouldn't you want to be soldja boy?' a youthful me asks my mom for two halloween costumes since you're not allowed to be a bloody zombie little girl with a knife at school in the second grade

As I pretend my bff is right when she says we can't even at the bare minimum be mean girls since 'none of us are blonde' a youthful me describes to my dad the terrible tumble zombie Alice took not only down down the rabbit hole but down down a muddy cliff and that's the reason her hair is brown

As I pretend not to care when my bff calls my guy 'weird' a youthful me demands that if I must date a man he cannot be conventional in any manor

As I pretend to be unharmed by the unexplained absence of my bff at my clubs squid dissection a youthful me is ostracized and abandoned by her only friend

As I pretend the barber cut my hair wrong when my bff tells me 'it's really short' a youthful me wanted purple and blue died hair cut in a shaggy mullet

As I pretend I don't hate my new skin so much that I claw at it raw and bloody a youthful me swore it 'would only be once and I'd never do it again'

how do i tell her i made it?

all those nights dreaming of what waking up might feel like. all those mornings still stuck in a dream.

how do i tell her that every week day i wake up at six to greet the blue haze outside my window while i dance to the radio station and put on way too much highlighter?

all those hours longing for satisfaction. all those minutes longing for routine.

how do i tell her my days are full of a life which i live?

all those poems praying for my flame. all those prayers poeticizing the mundane.

jk guys we are so back

"its never over"-jeff buckley

Is this the end of my chapter or merely the beginning? I have been reminded of my past and promised my future. Nothing hangs in the balance yet everything sits on edge. I know I am not a main character and I don't believe myself to even be a regular but I've felt it recently. I saw reminders of the me that once was, the me that was broken down stuck back there. But I'm not going back right? I refuse to go back there yet it seems inevitable, the signs are taunting me to go. Or perhaps the signs are pushing me to go start a beginning or is it pushing me to go finish an ending? I know I'm crazy but thats not the point. The point is that I can't tell where I have begun and I can't see where I will end.

All Girls are Angels in Their Dreams.

writing: Everyone is watching and looking and judging. I'm just meat to be consumed by others, I'm for others. And I should be grateful, oh please eat me and spit out what you hate. Pretty please sink your teeth into my flesh, eat me. Don't worry about the pain, I should he grateful. I am. I am. Don't yell. Use my flesh to silence your anger, your pain. Please. Oh do I hate this dream.

am i girl blog shit posting now?

who knows~

as I let nature reclaim me I slowly but surely delete my ties to slavery swiping

I am deleting tumblr, my second to last stop as I fade into the trees

I leave to you my few posts in hopes of being remembered

there is a version of me that doesn't like to say goodbye

~andria

You know when you wake up and your body hasn’t yet adjusted to the new day – and your mind is still congested and confused? Well, you can awake in that mode, and suddenly have a great fear for the future. Yesterday it was about money. And wondering what to do about getting some proper work later in life. You’re fine for money, at the moment. But, will you ever figure out a way to earn a decent amount? It’s okay right now – but that won’t last forever. And at the same time, you’ve just come out of sleep and you really need a pee. So you head along to the toilet, feeling monstrous. And you sit on the toilet and piss, and look in the mirror next to you: and you look like total crap. Heavy eyelids, grey hair, rough beard. You used to be semi comfortable with your looks, but, not so much these days. So you get up and head back to your bedroom and get into the bed again. Knowing that you won’t be able to sleep again. Because when your brain turns on in the morning, you can never switch it off again quickly. But what you can do is go back to that childish comfort of the warm bed. Just to stay there for a while. In the warmth of your covers. Especially with the one degree temperature beyond the window. Just reside in the heat for twenty minutes or so, so that you can regain a little physical power. After that, you can get up and put the clothes on and start the day for proper. And try and not be so afraid any more. Even if that’s often impossible to do.

abstract art he says

i dont much understand it

he says its intriguing

i find questions with no answers

he says in a good way

i tell him i can't stand not knowing

he says im like abstract art

i dont much understand it