Category: girlblog
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i wish i could sit you down and tell you why i am the way i am, let you examine my mind, soul, and heart as a whole, spread out like evidence on a table, and maybe you would understand better than i do why i turned out this way. i’m so sick of being…
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the blood we share should’ve been enough for you to claim me, but it’s been a long time since you bothered to pick up the phone. you trained me to wait by the door, by the silence, like a kid who learned early that love came in checked boxes and scraps, that attention was something…
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this isn’t fair. the way i crave you like a ghost craving the warmth it forgot. like i’ve known your pulse in another century, under a different name, in a church set on fire by our own hands. you owe me nothing, but i feel it anyway, the ache of past debts crawling through our…
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i’m sick of complaining about all the same things. my life is shit because i deserve it, right? i keep crying to the moon of my unfortunes, whispering all the poison in my brain that clings to everything i want, everyone i love, everything i miss. it’s sticky, it’s deathly, it wraps itself around every…
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the chains never really left. i thought when you were gone i would finally be free, that i would stop glancing over my shoulder for the shadow that used to follow me everywhere. for a while i convinced myself i was happy. i told myself i was free, free to laugh, to be young, to…
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do you enjoy talking to me or am i only a litany of old complaints, a voice circling the same drain i first leaned over at seventeen. could you ever sit with me not as an echo chamber but as someone who would drink coffee slow let the cream form galaxies on the surface ask…
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i wanna feel guilty. and trust me i do. i feel awful everyday. i cant escape you i see you everywhere, i dream about you. i distract myself with new people to drown out my lonliness and exhaustion but in everything i loves theres pieces of you i find shattered and i hold them like…
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every six months, i look back and wince. as if growth is some cruel mirror, showing me how naive i was to believe i had anything figured out. i thought aging meant answers, that clarity would arrive like the tide, slow and inevitable. but it’s juvenile to think life ever gets easier. nothing about this…
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i hate when i cant write. not because theres nothing inside of me but because there is too much. too many words, too many wounds, too many truths that sting like open air on skin not yet ready to heal. two days ago i was in a mental hospital. it was my first time, it…
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Eve was framed and I was born knowing it. They handed me a story already written in his voice, a garden locked behind shame, a woman blamed for wanting more. They never say Adam refused. Only that Eve reached, like all girls do, for something sweet, something she wasn’t supposed to be. They call it…
Lesbihonest 