Love · prose · quote · ramblings · self love · Uncategorized · Writing

Appreciate Yourself

You don’t have to be soft and fragile and sweet, you can be hard and edgy and bitter. I know your eye lashes aren’t long enough and your eyes don’t exactly hhsparkle. Your skin flakes and your lips get chapped; you’re all kinds of flaws bundled into a package. You laugh loud and sit awkwardly and put flowers in your hair to make yourself feel pretty. You ask yourself questions you can’t answer, you lie to yourself too. You break hearts including your own again and again. You cry ugly then wipe your own tears.
So what if your eyes don’t hold stars and your smile is kinda wonky? So what if you don’t talk a lot and have a few friends? So what if you’re a hopeless romantic and he doesn’t want you? You’re bitten nails and messy hair and an unhealthy addiction to chocolate. There’s no other way to be you. You’re fucking art, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

 

Originally posted on instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p/BMrVcqwDWm-/

abuse · female objectification · feminism · Free Verse · Free verse Poetry · harassment · Poetry · Uncategorized · women rights

Beloved Land, You Have Failed Her

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I feel unsafe on the land on which I walk,
though each grain of sand beneath my feet
is a testament to my existence.
This is the land that raised me,
shaped me into being,
the blood of my ancestors
still running cold underneath,
the land where I was born
the land to which I shall return,

The land that vowed to love me;
yet that very land
is unable to protect me today;
a woman.

I try to avert gazes
that look hungrily ahead,
mirth in their eyes
as looks are exchanged,
my DNA itself aware of what
meaning each look holds.
I am nothing but another item
to be gained, or to be used
for purposes of ridicule,
for their own enjoyment.
I am nothing but a mere object,
personified as a human.

A checklist in my mind
crosses each line off one by one:
is this covered, is that covered,
am I covered,
so I fall victim to the lesser of gazes
compared to the woman
who dares to show
a snippet of her skin.

“I shall not be objectified”
“I shall not be objectified”
I tell myself repeatedly,
to instill in me even a shred of self-dignity.
But even with all of my skin
compellingly hidden away
and my clothes
no way making evident, that I
may in fact be a woman,
my face betrays me
as I fall victim to crude glances
expectantly.
“You have already been objectified”
my voice tells me,
“the moment your chromosomes decided to be female.”

My beloved land,
the day a woman
had to cower down
before a man
for his own pleasure
was the day
you failed her,
you failed me,
you failed us all.

Free Verse · Free verse Poetry · Love · mother · Poetry · Uncategorized

Dearest Mother

Dearest mother,
forgive me
for the flaws in my words,
as I scrape through the walls of my brain,
shifting around things that matter nothing,
and find inspiration to write for
the one thing that matters most to me;
you.

Dearest mother,
without my consent
I was brought into this world,
a crying blubbering mess;
and somehow you managed to make me love
every second of it.
Even when I didn’t I still did, for you;
to repay you
for bringing me here,
so I could meet you.
And I am forever thankful for that.

Dearest mother,
with each tear you wiped,
You took away a bit of my loneliness,
a bit of my despair.
And even though you knew
everything wouldn’t be okay,
you still told me it would,
so I believed you,
and nothing ever felt better,
because I knew you could be strong enough,
for the both of us.

Dearest mother,
I’m sorry for the nights I cried myself to sleep
without letting you know.
I only did because
I couldn’t bear to see the worry lines
crease your forehead,
as you’d forget about your health,
and worry for mine instead.

Dearest mother,
Thank you for being my source of encouragement,
on days when I couldn’t find in me to carry on.
You picked me up, each little broken piece at a time,
and glued them back together.
Hurting your self in the process
on my sharp edges,
you filled empty spaces, pieces lost,
with your own broken remnants
again and again,
eventually so tightly mended,
they’d never come apart again.

Dearest mother,
I know I’m not the best,
and am far from perfect.
I know I make mistakes,
and break your heart often.
But know everything I do is for you;
everything I am is because of you.
I know, I’ve changed colors
because of many things,
but the brightest shade in me
is still the one left by you,
and it grows brighter still.

 Dearest mother,
on days when death crosses my mind
far too many times than it should,
it’s your face that gives me reason
and strength, to carry on,
however hard it may get.
Because you are my anchor,
and as long as I’m tethered to you,
I shall never sink.

Dearest mother,
I want you to promise to never leave me.
Even when you are no longer here,
and I’m no longer here,
I want you to continue flowering within me.
I know how lonely those days are
when you aren’t home
and gone for the day to tend to duties.
It would kill me to know
that one day I might not have you
to come home to
permanently.

Dearest mother,
lastly, I would like to thank you,
for all that you have endured for me
and will continue to do
for as long as I live.
And no matter how difficult it may be,
I will try, with all my heart,
to return the favor one day.

Dearest mother,
I know I don’t tell you often,
but know I’ve never meant anything more
when I say
I love you.06e5bfc3c36b7370613414065d12cd6e

anxiety · depression · Free verse Poetry · mental health · Poetry · sadness · Self Harm · Uncategorized

Read Between the Lines

5c99cf436a641956b50614191ec6f892A cloudy mind,
swarming with thoughts
and questions,
on how to make this easier,
on how to stop the whirring
in my eerily numb mind.
It gets louder,
and louder still.
The deafening sounds continue,
surrounding,
choking,
obscuring
my sanity,
or what’s left of it.

I try to block the clamor,
that threatens to seep out my ears,
and make it known to the world
that I struggle,
struggle with things unknown,
struggle with things
I can’t seem to kill.
Yet they kill me every day.

The urge it gets stronger,
and stronger still.
The urge to hurt myself,
the urge to bleed,
so I can stop the thunder,
and retrieve the sanity I have lost,
Because nothing else will make it go away.
And I can’t live with it.

My mind blares,
and I’m trying to make sense
of the words I’ve thrown onto this page,
but nothing much makes sense anymore,
and I’m getting weaker,
withdrawing from the world,
so I don’t have to deal with the noise
in company;
the demons get angry
when I don’t listen to them,
like a child nagging,
seeking attention.
I must answer them.

I don’t talk about them,
they don’t like it.
But they’re asleep right now,
so read between the lines,
pay close attention,
and listen when I whisper help,
before I say,
take me.

Free Verse · Free verse Poetry · Love · Poetry · prose · ramblings · sadness

I was okay being alone

I was okay being alone, till I was the only one alone.

Literally,
I had enough people around me.
Someone to ask how I’d been lately,
because they’d been too busy to make time to see me.
Someone to ask me if I had attended class,
So they could borrow notes they’d missed,
while spending time with someone else.
Someone to ask for my opinion on presents,
because they needed ideas,
for a birthday gift
I wouldn’t get.

Literally,
I was not alone.
Figuratively,
I was more than it.

Best friend told
not to wait for the walk home from school
because she’ll be walking home with the boy
she tried to attain all month,
and eventually succeeded.

Other best friend cut conversations short,
because it was time for boyfriend to come home from work,
so she could spend the next endless hours talking to him.

Meet up plan cancelled with another,
because “just a friend” was turning 18,
and a pre birthday celebration was due.

Just a series of
Empty desks,
Changed lab partners,
Forlorn walks home,
Lost conversations;
Shifting priorities.

Lonely nights,
charged with caffeine,
the diary
held so dear
no longer fulfilling
the need for a listening ear,
the pillow
no longer making up
for desired physical affection.

Not quite understanding what it meant
to have someone fall for you,
to sweep you off your feet
then catch you too.

Wondering if it all really was worth,
losing friends over.

Wondering if I’d ever know.

I was okay being alone, till I was the only one alone.