Wednesday, November 11, 2015

The day I was healed.

I remember it very clearly. The tear streamed down my face. And it touched my lip. Spreading over it. I would leave it there as I searched my mind for nothingness and longed to simply breathe. And then I tasted it. This time so sweet. My mind had forgotten how it felt to be at peace and my cheeks no longer knew the feeling of the desert I live in. And my lips, my lips had only held droplets of salt, while my tongue only tasted the bitter flavor of the hatred in my soul. But this time. It was sweet. And all at once I realized I had not been crying at all. This droplet on my lips had fallen from my damp face. A face only dampened by the water from my faucet. And it turned out, I had not been crying at all. Not today. How sweet it tasted. I knew right then, that was all I wanted. Never again would I let him be responsible for the tears streaming down my face. Never more would I honor his destruction of my soul, my beautiful mind. He was toxic. And I had never known, until I took a breath of fresh air. 
And now I long for the courage to do so. I've felt it, I know what it would be like to be healed. To be free. And my mind has seen it. I've even felt it, a little. But my heart won't let me have it. I know what it will be like, the day that I'm healed.

Monday, October 19, 2015

Angelic words from the broken

Make your decisions based off wise words, you never know where your feelings will take you.

But with that being said, remember the power of love. 

Keep your heels, head and standards high.

And Always remember to be forgiving, one day you may need someone to do the same.

Be honest. Be amazing. Inspire someone today. And if there's no one to inspire. Be an amazing inspiration for yourself. Because you are worth far more than you know.


I don't know if it was God or if it was Satan. If it was my soul finding what it truly desired or my heart tricking my mind. But there was always something that brought me back to Him. And when I was with him I was happiest. And sad at the same time. Because I wanted all of him to be mine. But he had not chosen that for me. And it was something I couldn't take for myself. Maybe this is what love is supposed to feel like. My mind knew that there was something better for me. But as I shut the door at night and he stepped further away from my gate, knowing he'd be back in the morning, my soul was satisfied.

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

This flower girl, has a new love.

This flower girl has a new love.
This flower girl found the right love.
Or maybe she just found the right way to love.
This flower girl can now be refered to as Lillie.
The old flower girl was loving but loving wrong. 
What a beautiful thing it is, to see someone put all their heart and soul into one thing. But to have it taken away, that's the pain we wish we couldn't see.
The old flower girl was loving, and only loving one thing, one man.
She even switched men along the way.
And it was beautiful.

Her whole heart and her whole soul completely invested in one.

She'd learn her lesson, and she'd only need to learn it once. 

Of course everything she was invested in was taken from her, it's not hard to take everything away, when everything is one.

So she saw that pain we all fear, and she felt it. She felt it.
This time, instead of one new love. She'd have many.

This flower girl loves herself. 

She isn't writing about the pain she couldn't explain. She's not writing or loving just one thing in this world, she's taking it all in. This girl can see what she wants, she can breath it in. And nothing's stopping her from having it all.

Cause now she knows, she deserves it.

This flower girl loves the beauty in this world and she sees it everywhere she goes. She's got big dreams.
This flower girl loves doing hair.
This flower girl loves to write again.
This girl loves to be alone.

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Tuesday, November 26, 2013


To me the coldness of the bitter winter air is more than just cold. It's more than just that pain right before your fingers are completely numb.

To me, the winter is full of another pain. Maybe it's because I'm always cold and it reminds me that you aren't there to keep me warm. Or maybe it just proves to me that there is a season for everything and just like you took summer, you took love as well. 

But then I realize I can't blame winter. I apologize for trying. Because last winter I was in love. Because last winter I was happy. And last winter we'd just fallen for each other. And we were happy.
I just want things to be the way they were.

Will you fall for me again?

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Slitting my wrists

I'm standing in front of my bathroom mirror with a razor blade in hand. But I can't do it. I'm not really depressed and the little scratches I've already put on my left wrist were painful. I don't want to do it but I know that after I do, I'll feel satisfied. Not because this pain is masking another, but because I'll get the attention I've been begging for. And maybe that is pain. Maybe I am masking it.

So I press as hard down into my wrist as I can allow myself. 

It stings.
But still, only a scratch.
Hardly any blood. But that's what I need. I need blood for attention. For the attention I've been begging for. For the attention I thought I deserved. 

How did I get here? I've never wanted to inflict physical pain on myself. Why now? How would this get me the attention I want? Well it'll let him know I'm serious. And that I won't do this anymore. It'll let him know that I'm as important as she is. It'll make him treat me better. I hope.

But I can't do it. So I put the razor down and cry myself to sleep. And the next morning I beg once more