Darling

Take this body I'm imprisoned in,

This prison of flesh and fat

encasing me in something that feels so foreign

these breasts, that still haunt me

always stuck on my chest

reminding me no matter what

That this prison I live in is still female.

Take this skin I wear.

That's not light enough for it to be white.

but too white to be black

this skin that’s made of nightmares and scars

reminding me of all these nightmares, I've lived through.

Take these hands that are so rough and cracked.

Never to be soft enough for any of my lovers

where these jagged nails

are torn enough to rip and tear my cracked skin

Take my hair that’s too white.

To hold these curls of my ancestors

but still too black for my mother's beautiful red locks

take my voice.

That still shakes and cracks at the words,

I've had trapped in my throat.

Burning it raw and ragged

Making it so any words that I still manage to speak

are caked in the blood and pain

of the effort, it took to let me free.

be proud

You tell me to SPEAK UP. To be "proud of my words" Let them out into the world. Stand behind them, ready to defend them with my life. And my entire being and soul

but how am I supposed to be "proud" of my words when I haven't even learned how to be proud of my self

how am I supposed to be "proud" Of these words I say. When I've learned that they don't even matter They get shot down and ignored. Before they even got the chance to be spoken.

How am I supposed to be "proud" when I've seen how you react To the thoughts, I've put out. Putting my heart and soul into them and then getting to watch you kill them

child of grey

My father was of ebony. My mother of ivory I am the child of grey. Not enough ebony to be of my father To little ivory to be with my mother

My heart was of half-ice. A cold so unfeeling So a cold almost to the point of burning, never enough feeling to care my head half of snakes calculating and cruel always planning and waiting for the perfect moment to strike

My heart is made of half gold. Tender and caring beautiful and full of love, perfect to suit you my head half made of fire burning hot, always craving for something to fuel it unpredictable and starving for its next game

I am the child of grey. With the head of flame and scales calculating and unpredictable, Ready to strike and always to keep you on edge. And my heart of ice and gold blinding you with its beauty, while slowing killing you with its burning ice

side show mirrors

You call me an attention whore.  Only because my heart screams out for any type of love  something you never gave  look me in the eyes.  And tell me. "I'm always craving attention."  All I could do was Laugh.  what you call craving attention I  call a cry for help.  Haven't you noticed that?  You never taught me.  how to ask for help

reblog to blow up an ableist

i love you

I have loved you since We were young. barely old enough to even understand what love even was. the feeling of pure and utter devotion I had felt for you before I fully realized How much love would ruin me. How much it would kill me Tearing me apart, never letting me go Stealing away my heart, never giving it back

her cravings

The girl craved depravity. She loved it in her twisted way. Loved how it made her feel The way it felt as the darkness consumed her. How it crept through her veins stealing its way into her heart making it's self its own little home inside her heart. Whispering their tales of the demented and cursed screaming the depths of its madness into her heart. Corrupting her, molding her, stealing her Twisting her into a demented shell of her once pure self.

haunted

I can still feel your fingers drifting down my skin as I still sit here after what seems like hours later they crawl down my neck, and back up my arms, through my hair. While your words, echo in through my ears with subtle warnings and orders no to be crossed.

Anger feels like a sharp green. It lives in the eye of a snake ready to strike. Sharpening its tongue using it as a knife Ready to lash out and wound. Anger is locked in the eyes. Constantly watching and waiting to attack

Yellow is the color of safety. It warms like the sun's rays. Surrounding me. Being a beacon in the dark It's soft and shining in contrast, to angers hard sharpness Safety is free to roam. It finds those in need and makes them safe.

Fear is the darkest blue of the ocean. Primal, cold and harsh Running parallel to anger. Fear stalks its prey, Watching and waiting to strike. never hesitating, always ready. Waiting to cover you in its shallow depths pulling you under like a riptide Devouring you in its purest form

the bathroom

Smoke flows from my cracked and bloody lips the dingy bathroom lights flicker above me a low buzz echos through the room my reflection stares back at me a sly smirk gracing its lips I can almost hear its laugh echoing in my head. The cold porcelain of the sink pulsing against the rising heat of my hands dirt and grime caked on to the counter and mirror the buzzing of the lights mixes with the pounding of my head Voices and conversations outside the door seem to grow in volume. pounding against my eardrums All the noise seems to be surrounding me. Building up and building up my reflections laughter ringing in my ears the lights buzzing and flickering The mirror starts cracking. Sounds of glass falling and shattering mix with the symphony of noise The class finally shatters falling all around me. Knocking on the door starts. The pounding and shaking of the door mixes with the calls of my name It sounds like I'm underwater. The door and the voice feeling so far away while I'm sinking farther down in my head finally, I snap back I'm in the bathroom. the mirrors still intact no longer shattered lights buzzing no longer deafening My fingers loosen their grip on the sink. The reflection no longer laughing and taunting My legs start working. Uprooting themselves from the floor the sound of my footsteps echo against the walls