“Not All Men”

for centuries women have fought tooth and nail to be able to take care of ourselves because it is a privilege. when you can change your own oil and fix your own plumbing you don’t have to worry about being stuck with a man who beats you into submission. women who can change tires and gouge eyes out don’t waste time covering bruises with foundation or hiding dollar bills between pages of books in hopes that one day they’ll have enough to change their name in a new town. no. not all men are like this. just enough for me to be afraid. to clutch my keys between my fingers whenever i leave my house alone. enough for me to invest in pepper spray. i haven’t always known how to take care of myself.

White People are Ruining America

On White Privilege and Abortion

Years of forcing people of color to do basic tasks and manual labor for us has molded white communities into senseless lazy assholes without an original thought, who have become so accustomed to taking what they want they aren’t able to do anything for themselves. That is a fact. Whether you would like to accept or ignore that fact is up to you. However, the time is quickly approaching where anyone unwilling or able to own up to and fight against the institutionalized racism our country was built on will be left behind. The ability to ignore racial injustices is a privilege very few can afford. To live in denial about the atrocities taking place is to willingly stand against those harmed for things they have no control over. It’s hard to believe any God would let that slide. Continue reading “White People are Ruining America”

The Age of Light: Whitney Scharer

5/5 would recomend to a stranger in an alley

I do my best not to read the reviews or synopsis of a book before reading the book itself. For me, judging a book solely on its cover is an act of rebellion. It’s how I contribute to the ongoing revolutions against the society we have created. Lee Miller would have done the same.

I would die for this book. Lee Miller could throw me off a bridge and I would say thank you. Same with Whitney Scharer. 

What a beautiful story of love and light and growth and Paris. A tale about a woman who came into herself by realizing that maybe nobody ever knows who they are, and daring to belong solely to herself. A story about a woman who was entirely her own, and accepted nothing less than what she deserved. Who did as she pleased and apologized for nothing. 

Whitney Scharer paints a picture of such brightness and grace in a time when things were so easily anything but. 

A Coming Out Letter

Greetings loved one! 

I had something I wanted to talk to you about and I hope I’m giving you enough time to respond to this. It has to do with how you responded to those pictures of Presley and David playing dress up with the neighbor girls. I guess my question isn’t so much of why you feel so appalled by those images, but if you’d ever be willing to grow out of those feelings.  Continue reading “A Coming Out Letter”

I Need Bruises Not Strings

don’t kiss my forehead
don’t try to hold my hand
don’t apologize for anything. ever.
don’t pull my chair out at the dinner table
don’t open any doors for me
don’t try to pay the bill
don’t let me put my feet on the dash
don’t ask me how my day was
don’t try to comfort me
don’t introduce me to your parents
don’t try to get to know me
don’t count the days since we first met
don’t call me when you get home safe
don’t even make it home safe

Find Someone Who Loves You

The worst thing about abusers is they aren’t always abusive. There are enough good days to balance out the bad and it’s almost too easy to feel guilty for focusing on the things that need improving or speaking up for what you need. You’re not crazy for wanting more and you aren’t ungrateful for making your needs met. If a relationship is not mutually beneficial, it is not the one for you. Find someone who will make a continuous effort to give you everything you deserve without making it seem like a burden.

Take The Pieces

there is a fire in my soul.
clawing at the walls inside my ribs
for me to let her out and there is a hurricane
resting at the base of my throat
waiting for me to let her free.
she is waiting for the day i release her
from my grasp and everyone will finally know
the power ebbed and flowing just beneath the
surface of my small frame.
only then will she be allowed to scream
all the things i’ve been holding back from saying
in fear your small beings would not be able
to comprehend them.
and you will know that i am she who offers life.
i am she who made you who you are,
who let you have this moment of joy,
and i am she who will wash it away.
in one swift kick, all the lies you’ve built up
around you, this house of cards you choose to
call home, will come tumbling down
around your soiled feet.
and you will know that i am god
by the way i build you a castle made of stone
one that will withstand earths mightiest rumblings.
a place for you and the girl you replaced me with
even the parents who berated me for telling them
what you’d done.
you will know that i am god
by the way i hold myself. you will see the light
pouring out of me and you will ask me
to tell you my secret.
how did i recover so magnificently?
but i will not answer. not today. not for you.