how to write poetry like a white person
- the taste of you
- save me
- no wait save yourself
make sure to left align and god forbid touch a capital letter
Aka you are expressing yourself incorrectly, in a way that this person deems unacceptable. Stop it.
I’ve always wanted to be a writer. Maybe I haven’t been the best at it, or maybe I haven’t been as good as others, but I have always enjoyed it. In the past couple years, I have become what you could call a Feminist. I define feminism in a way that is pure equality. I think that “do unto others as…
Read this from my other blog!!
I think there are pebbles in my soul, softly dancing in the inside of my cavities and hitting the sides of my walls, creating small scratches and bruises that were not there before. Always they are new, and sickly sweet and tiny but they are there and they feel like little paper cuts, not enough to get a band-aid but enough to curse and complain, why did this happen to me.
I think I am being sent signs from the universe, signs that I can’t quite read and I am confused and squinting my eyes, staring into the sun, what are you trying to tell me? What am I supposed to do next? My soul is being peppered with cute little pebbles I can’t possibly stay mad at, and yet I am so angry and unfulfilled and I can’t seem to change my direction or stay on a proper path, there is gusts of wind taking me this way and that and I can’t get out of it’s uncontrollable path.
Who am I supposed to be, why do I always fall down? Why do I not follow the same path as others, why do I feel as though I am always on the outside? I wish someone would shout the answers at me, tell me what to do and how to do it and guide me.
I am trying to stay strong, trying, trying, trying, falling down at every single turn, my soul shuddering at the thought of making it through one more day. I feel as though I have a thousand miles to go and only a sip of water left.
being a girl is really fucking expensive
hahahahhhAHAHAHAHhahahahahhahahah WHO IS PAYING FOR YOUR DATES
hahahahhhAHAHAHAHhahahahahhahahah WHO IS PAYING FOR OUR TAMPONS, PADS, ULTRA SOUNDS, PAP SMEARS, OB/GYN VISITS, BRAS, CLOTHES, MAKE UP, HAIR PRODUCTS TO GO ON DATES WITH FUCKERS LIKE YOU?
Don’t forget yeast infection medication, birth control, nail polish, nail polish remover and pain meds for cramps
Your eyes, your eyes are two moons, orbiting a planet in distant outerspace.
Your skin, your skin is soft water colour pallet, drying silky, smoothly, there is serendipity deep down inside your soul.
The way you touch me, your fingers, they light my skin like a match, engulfing my flesh in flames.
I feel like a volcano, ready to erupt and overflow into the village below, destroying everything in my path, burning every bridge,
and all I can think of is your lips, goose down feathery soft, and that I want them to kiss me, and I could never want anything else ever again.
i sell metaphors like
my skin in the streets;
so when men call my
name, i can give them
30 different ways to
serenade their satin sheets.
The words ‘I love you’ don’t sound like enough when pronounced anymore, so from now on I’m going to ask you to ‘stay’.
Stay in my arms.
Stay by my side.
Stay in this room.
Stay just for tonight.
Stay just for this week.
Stay just for this life of mine.
they say my name means,
"brave" but it would be more accurate
to say it means, “soul-sore”
or “heartache” or a word that means,
a girl to whom the worst always seems
to befall; an unlucky lioness.
the fierceness is watercolor storms
on ocean eyes
spill the graywater;
erase me entirely.
“I’m not saying that at some point love isn’t staying up until 2am phone calls or stealing kisses when you least expect it, or instantly falling for each other’s favorite songs because it is, or at least that’s what the lead up to it feels like, but real love, is so much more. It’s going out at…