Mar 24


pain is a multi-stage pair of steps

it starts with an event; or something mentally efferus

the lack of motivation kicks in before anything else

sometimes you know it and sometimes you don’t know it

but like pain it’s always there.

the second step is to pretend to block it out with a smile

become an eccedentesiast to everyone else

while everyone else thinks that your world is full of ataraxia.

the third is to not speak of the tacenda

while in the back of your head you’re screaming out for help

but love, you’re already used to suffering.

the fourth, the easiest, is to become a lacuna

“a blank space” as they say

by this time you’ll be solivagant so it shouldn’t be too hard.

there are benefits to being in pain--

you’ll understand just how fake everyone else is.
Dec 05

mother nature

Hey Earthlings,
Care to put your phone down for a second while you read this?
Yes, fully away, maybe in your back pocket--yes, there you go. 
Finally, we can get to the point.
The point is you should be scared of me... deeply scared of me. The kind of scared where your hands shake, your head becomes fuzzy with fear and your arms quiver at your chest as you wrap them around yourself.
Why? Oh, you must be pretty funny if you don't know.
You've nearly ravaged me to death.
Have you forgotten what kindness is? How the Earth below you is crumbling with every impact from nukes? How my resources are running out because you spend them terribly? How every single phone in your pocket is not made without abuse in another place? How I bet you didn't know that till just now? How forest fires have spread? How every day the temperature is rising? How my oceans are now filled with oil?
Dec 04

speaking with the future

If I were to write a letter to me in ten years
I'd apologize 
"I'm sorry I stopped you from doing what you wanted to do most."
Yeah, afraid to join those clubs at school because I was afraid I'd look dumb in them.
Mhm, worried that those older kids would frown upon your new face in their classroom.
So scared that your hands would tremble upon thinking of school sports and activities.
I'd apologize
"I'm sorry I put you down about who you are."
Made you look down at yourself for being something no one else wanted to be.
Put you in your room to cry alone because your grades weren't the perfection you wanted them to be.
Let you see the parts of the world that you shouldn't have had to witness.
I'd apologize
"I'm sorry I didn't let you feel what being beautiful felt like."
Dec 03

speak up

This is all true. It's happening in real time.
Today my school lost a student.
There is no easy way to put the death of a fellow peer, but I can only wonder why it happened.
There is no easy way out of pain.
There is no easy way to reach out and ask for help.
There is no easy way to become a happier person from a cracked shell.
But there are always easy ways to show you care.
A simple smile is all it takes.
A wave in the hallway.
A hand at the shoulder.
A "Hi, how are you today?"
There are millions of ways to help someone 
So, please
Speak up. 
Because if you don't think their hands were quivering, their teeth were chattering, their lips were trembling at the thought of who they were leaving behind than you need to 
It doesn't matter who you are to a person or what connection you have to them. Anything can help.
Dec 02
fiction 2 comments challenge: Trees


Upon writing on a thin piece of paper did the man think, his hands trembling at his pencil. Through golden locks that fell by his shoulders, his eyes cast at a low angle to glance at the ripped, torn piece of paper in front of him. Although he wanted to, he could not bring himself to write. Fragile hands took the paper from the table where it lies and brought it up to the window, looking through the creased piece where brilliant specks of light could come through. 
Whoever thought harming trees for this piece of paper would've done any good for humans? 
His hand gripped the pencil; a thin piece of wood mixed together with led. Upon his hand did it's shaking increase. This piece of a tree had been cut to size, painted, and marked as a human's own. Its kind had gone through shipping, snapping and, sharpening. At the thought, he dropped the pencil onto the floor; though he jumped back with a yelp at the sight of the ground.
Nov 30

ᴡɪꜱᴇ ɢɪʀʟ

Don't wrap me in lies; for my ears cannot take any more
Don't tell me you love me so sweetly then walk back through the door
Don't take my hand in yours and tell me how beautiful I am
For I know that your love is just a scam

Your smile so sweet
Though why do I only taste defeat?
I have stretched my wings only so far
Yet here I am as you play me like a broken guitar?

 Your hands; coated in beauty 
But your heart, stained with tar
Don't say that pleasing you is my only damned duty 
Because honey, both of us will only end up with scars

Your eyes did I used to trust
Now I don't understand them anymore 
How long has it been since our love turned to rust
This thought; nothing more to do than ignore

Don't say that we are something
When your gestures tell me differently 
With your side glance to others 
Nov 30


A mute among speakers, silent against loud, small against large. Unable to speak her mind, free of arguments. It didn't seem fair to her that her lips parted every time someone spoke a new sentence, waves of words would run over her tongue and clog her throat. Sometimes, they were sweet and smooth against her tongue; they tasted like how she imagined the best fruits to taste. So delicate yet so quick to leave. 
Sometimes, they left so quickly that the aftertaste left only memories. Other times, words tasted bitter and cold and left a dark sense of insecurity upon her tongue, she was so disgusted in them that swallowing them was harder than tasting them. These words were tinted with sorrow, anger, resentment, abandonment, cruelty, and abuse. They tasted like the venom from a snake, a cobra of the finest.