I plead not guilty.

Every time they come knocking on my door,

I kick them out,

They come barging in like its their territory,

and I drag them out like garbage bags.

They enter and trespass, and I’m the one who’s charged for ignorance.

The judge sides with them, and I know Life is the name of that judge.

Death befriends me, knowing we’ll be companions soon.

I’m given a deal to admit that whoever’s pressing charges exists,

in return I’ll live peacefully and they’ll let me go.

They lie.

They’ll be like germs. Everywhere.

I throw the deal at their despicable faces,

and they beat me up till I bleed. Pain.

They want to inflict pain.

Pain is what I’m made of, idiots.

You threaten me, but I won’t budge.

I won’t welcome the emotions that I won’t admit.

I’d rather live in a cell alone than confirm that they exist.


Of life she writes.

Something I wrote a few weeks ago. I wasn’t going to post it because I was told it gives off the wrong message, but what the heck, I wrote it and I love it, so I hope you do too.

Let me know what you get from it! If I wrote this to you and handed it to you in a sealed envelope, what would you get from it? ❤️

Thoughts? Comments?


Maybe it is time for change.

Maybe things turned out the way they did for a reason.

Maybe it is meant to be.

That you and me should no longer be.

Maybe it’s true.

Maybe I’m not good enough for you.


Maybe you’re not good enough for me.

Maybe we’re just not meant to be.

Maybe we’re just not good enough to be…


It feels good.

You feel good.

You kiss me.

I kiss you.

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tell me you’re not miserable

Across The Blue Maze •

“Tonight you’re thinking of cities under crowns 
of snow and I stare at you like I’m looking through a window,
counting birds.
You wanted happiness, I can’t blame you for that,
and maybe a mouth sounds idiotic when it blathers on about joy 
but tell me 
you love this, tell me you’re not miserable.”

— Richard Siken, Seaside Improvisation

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Reflection: “Saudade”


‘- (noun) A Portuguese, untranslatable word romanticizing nostalgia in its purest form. This beautiful feeling captures the yearning for someone or something that you love, which is now lost. It is a melancholic longing.Saudade’s pronunciation varies according to the speaker and country, which only adds to its sincerity and vulnerability.’


I’ve been trying to capture this sentiment and describe it in my own words for a while now, but I’ve been failing miserably. Too many drafts. Too many missing words that could elaborate this beautiful and real sensation, but some feelings are hard to express fully. Difficult to transcribe each and every emotion into words that flow eloquently and perfectly and in complete harmony. This is probably due to my holding back to the sadness I’ve been bottling up and refusing to allow myself to remember all the pleasure I had once felt, resulting in not completely understanding the bitter-sweet yearning for a certain kind of absence.