I Love The Fact That You Need To Lean On Me, A Boy Says. 

You seem like the type that would happen anyway.

I smile politely and listen to him as he went on about how sexy he thought my vulnerability was.

My trauma a commodity, a mere accessory to him.

I am the saint in the stained glass window now.

I wonder if I’m the type when he kept his hands where they were even when I asked him to stop. 

The way he mistook my shrinking for permission.

My fingertips were so thin then, 

Pale, peeling skin and a wrecking ball in the empty space in my chest.

I wonder if I’m the type when a man I don’t know follows me home,

The way I tried to swallow the problem, to drop my throat into a whisper. 

To survive by blending, by not being the victim, 

Maybe I had always asked for it. 

Maybe this just happened to girls like me.

I don’t believe that the love between eva and I is coincidence. in this big, big universe, we happened to be in the same classroom. she was the first person to teach me that I did not need to change in order to be loved and is quite literally the definition of a boundless, unconditional love. I’m very lucky. I think some sort of divine power sent her to me. how her smile still calms me, a year later. how beautiful and brimming with life she is. thank you evka. I’m not sure you’ll ever read this but you have my heart.

Let it Snow (2019)

coffee, the sunrise and the buildings awash in the light of a new morning all around me. how lovely is it to be alive. to experience all this busyness and splendour. how the clouds whisper good morning and the heavens themselves shine through each crack in the sky. how the sun calls my body to wake. how the birds tell me today is a new day and aren’t there just endless possibilities. the promise of a new sunrise makes me so glad I’m still alive.

watching you dance is like witnessing something you never thought existed till now. it’s like finding god after swearing him off. the fluidity of your body, shoulders thrown back and chin raised. the way your skin calls me, body free and mind far far away. aren’t you a miracle, baby. aren’t you like water turning into wine. I can’t take my eyes off you, this gorgeous mess of a man. the way you move with me, holding my hands like you’ll get lost if you let go. then my waist, like I’m the only thing keeping you from floating into space. wander too far from reality with me, my love. move the way you do, my miracle boy.

you claim to be holy and I know damn well that you aren’t but I’m so lonely that I will take the wine and I’ll take the bread. drink it all down, say I’m full of love. when I find my own wrists stapled to a cross, I will have no one to blame but myself.

trigger warning: self harm

it’s been a year since I last hurt myself, an addiction that took all my willpower to overcome. I know I can fashion words into something beautiful but there was nothing pretty about all that self-hatred, all that anger, loss and pain. all that pain coiled in my stomach, gnawing at me from the inside. there was absolutely nothing beautiful about scarring a body that works so hard to keep going. I can’t make this beautiful or romantic or wistful. but it’s over now. I can breathe. I just want to let that fact be.

yeah i know u miss me it’s pretty hard to forget an angel

you kiss the lake and catch sight of the moon in its reflection. feel yourself drowning in everything you were once proud of. lost boy, don’t you know? those who communicate with angels are already lost. it is not beautiful or brave. the way the water pulls you in and traps you in it’s embrace is tragic. where is the angel you were praying to now?

When Alexa Demie said “You think a girl like me gon be single for long? You wrong. You think a girl like me gon be trippin for long? Dead wrong. You think a girl like me, fuckin girl like me, goddess like me, gon be tripping? You’ll see, with a girl like me.” I felt that.

again