Silent Voice. 

I’ve been sexually abused. I’ve been emotionally abused. I’ve been neglected. By men all my life. Can’t you see that I’m trying to scream out

“Don’t do this! Why are you hurting me? Why are you trying to hurt me? Stop, please stop!”

Nobody has ever listened. Nobody will ever listen. My voice is silent. I have no voice.



I saw them. It was like two large shapes of black merged into one larger figure. I continued to dance and my body didn’t react until the disgust hit me and I couldn’t stand it any longer. I saw it. My body was so close it was as if I could of blended in with both of them… but I didn’t, I wasn’t asked to, rather defied. 

It’s Not That.

I want to cry. I want my precious heart to pour out of my body and I want to feel the pain run down my face. I want to gasp for air. I want to cry so badly. When will the struggle of being alive, end? Iwriteandiwriteanditallsoundsoridiculous



Except            it’s     not     that    at    all.

The villain in my story can no longer be called the big bad wolf when I know his name and we have at least 30 mutual friends on Facebook.

I won’t let anyone hurt me anymore. No one can hurt me if I don’t invite anyone into my life.

I am quitting drinking. Drinking has been my drug for 13 years and it’s the only way I can get attention. I want the attention and approval so much. Drinking is the enemy. I don’t like myself when I drink.

Where will I go next? Will I be happy there? Can I ever wipe the slate clean, forgive, love and be loved?

Rather, Just Fuck Off.

I will no longer allow others to dictate how I feel about myself. I have lost faith in people, many times, but now – the thought of interacting or relying or working with people disgusts me. I don’t want to have friends or a companion, I don’t want you to sit near me or tell me your secrets or betray me. I don’t want you to make me feel bad about myself. I’ve allowed every single person to tell me what I should think about myself. That look. That God forsaken look every single day that makes me feel stupid. She thinks I am stupid, I feel stupid. That mildly unattractive man at the bar who doesn’t want to go home with you – “you’re ugly and fat” he’s probably thinking. I am ugly and fat, I think to myself. I’m not good enough for you or for you or for you. I’m not worth keeping your promise to me. I am merely another empty vessel that just roams this earth for a few years before I die and then that’s it. You’ll find someone else to make them hate themselves, though. That’s human nature – sex and aggression. I’m done with all of that. Don’t talk to me with that mouth of deceitful, hurtfulness – don’t look at me like I am a kid who can’t even spell their name right on a test. Don’t betray me, don’t fuck with me. Rather, just fuck off.

The Monster I’ve Become.


What would we be if there weren't people who 
made us feel the bad feelings that we do? Whatwould our thoughts be about ourselves? What 
would our self-confidence and self-esteem looklike? What would that look like? I don't feel like a monster - it's people who have made me this way.

Waiting to Change His Life.

I’ve watched men disrespect and mistreat me – be it within the space of a few hours, months, years or worse, a life time of emotional unavailability. I can’t say I’ve ever really received treatment from a man that makes me believe that he would actually do anything to keep me around. But that’s not to say it’s not happening at all. I know that there is one woman who can make a man completely change his ways, act like a stand-up guy and do things that deem them “pussy-whipped”. I’ve seen a man that didn’t want to bend over backwards for me, paint a woman’s toolbox pink and write her poetry. There is a man that is waiting for a woman to change his life. I’m in the mood to fall in love. Lately I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to put heavy rocks in my pocket and walk into the ocean – Virginia Woolf style. I’ve never nor am I in a space that I want to or will do something of that nature, but it’s the first time I wondered what it would be like. If I could explain it to my family and have them pre-approve my decision to withhold my own breath.