Here's what I need. Next time you speak to me, call me a baddass before you talk or ask about my ass. I need every person who makes an objectifying  comment, sexual advance, or otherwise problematic innuendo, to imagine they're saying it to their baby sister. To their neighbor. To the kindergarteners we walk past out in the world, to the mothers who fought so hard for equal opportunity in the workplace. I need each and every person to ask themselves before they speak, "Does this sentence use a woman as an object? Am I going to benefit the people around me by saying this, or am I simply insecure?"

Because while I can recover from your comments, jokes, and phrases that are seen as normal in our culture of harassment, I don't know if she can. I don't know if the next girl can. I can't sit back and watch while those around me suffer. This language is not normal. It CANNOT be normal. It's ludicrous that women are subjected to crude comments wherever they go. 

You asked me, "Do you miss me enough to swallow back the spice filled, delirium inducing elixir?" And I responded "I loved you enough not to" There isn't a moment in time your memory doesn't flash across my consciousness. A moment your smile doesn't cross my mind, Or your laugh doesn't invade my senses. Nearly a year later my heart still cries out for you in my sleep. I still yearn to hold you again. Not a moment your sarcasm doesn't reach, And I don't feel your judgment of my actions. You remind me not to. Your memory serves as a guide. It hold the place my own judgment used to lie. I no longer am capable of asking you what i should do. I can no longer sit next to you eating ice cream. Or find lost books in the forest. I can no longer see your motorcycle, Nor feel the sun hit my face as we swam at the beach. I will never see your face again. But when it ended. I was not the one seeking guidance. You sought out closure, and understanding. Your fear, your hope, your pain,

and i believed you 
when you said those three words
so go ahead and call me a fool
or a b!tch
or a hopeful lover
but i guess its better than 
never loving at all. 

love is pain. 
that's how i will almost always
link love with anything. 

because you taught me that. 

you stabbed my heart 6 months ago.

i'm still bleeding.

i have these flashbacks
whenever someone says or
does something. i think of
you and only you for
a couple of moments, and 
how you loved me. 

and now
someone loves me the way 
you used to, and though
i may want to (I DONT KNOW)
i cant love them back
because of what you did
to me.

so.

if you see this in the future,
i want you to know
how much you hurt me. i 
may never recover.

and all because of you. 
 

I love a good book.

It could be a book where the sleek, smooth surface, hides 
the mossy hardcover book. 
and binding the cream pages, that swallowed me 
in it's thrilling story.
I don't know if anyone has heard of it. I am proud to reccomend it. 
Bought new, published not long ago. 
My sleek, hardcover book. 

It could also be a  classic discovered at my grandma's house. 
A tired paperback, one that I could fit in my pocket. 
Its faded yellow pages
used to be white.
entertaining those before me. 
It's a classic, I am proud to said to have read it. 
My classic, old book. 

(this is like a poem/rant I wasn't fully sure how to label it) 

Does my affection affect you 
in a negative manner 
does my love hit you like bullets? 
because they will hit harder
do my word offend you?
threaten your life
does the gender of my love intriest
bring you this strife 
how, what on earth makes you think
in what mind?!
that me loving another
is not being kind 
what person so flawed in their thoughts and morals 
led you to fight these pointless quarrels 
because love is love 
no matter face, body, or name
we are all living this
hectic people loving game 
all that we have is compassion for another 
so please please please 
stop hurting each other 
stop killing your sisters and brothers and others 
i beg you to find
some sort of respect inside 
I didn't hurt you 
Didn't call you names

This is a generated story from storymatic. I chose four things, the dark orange (top two) describe the plot. The yellow (bottoms two) describe the main character. Will write a story based on this, a short one. This can be used a start for others too!! Wish me luck! :)

The chirp of a bird. The chaos of getting ready for school while your family also is getting ready. The weird good/sad feeling after you finish your favorite series on netflix. These are all things that will never last forever. The last thing that you want to do is stay stuck on one memory that you regret. Time doesn’t stop moving so neither should you. The funny thing about life is that you want to be grown up when you're a child but when you're an adult the thing you long for is your youth. Time is an ongoing thing that will probably never stop so you have to move along with it. 

The bedroom, where you spend a little more than a quarter of the day. It is where you can feel relaxed, safe, and comfortable. But what if you could change it. What if you could make a five star hotel room, or a castle, or a spot in the clouds, or would you not change it at all. If I was given the chance to change my room I wouldn’t change much. Currently my room is a room with gray walls and a bed in the middle with a tv stand and a dresser. First off I would change the wall color. I would change it to a dark blue, I would do that because it is my favorite color and it would represent the ocean. The ocean is one of my favorite spots because it shows chaos and peace. The next thing I would change would be the furniture. I would sleep on a bed of clouds and have the floor feel like the beach on a sunny winter day. I would also make it so that my room would never become cold. I personally hate the winter and the cold it brings with it. The next thing is the way things are organized.