"To cross in the form of an X; intersect." Placing a cross in the box, to most is a simple task. Used here as an identifier, a label, to sort us. Two choices, of which you must decussate one. Male or female. But I am none.
"A figure of speech in which an imagined, absent, or dead person or thing is represented as speaking." Shattered and torn. You need to be fixed. An act of prosopopoeia, a nightmarish memory, fever born from lonely nights. I am what you need. All you need. Without me you'll be forever alone.
"Feeling, showing, or expressing sorrow, repentance, or regret." She was full of rue. Pained by her mistakes and misfortunes. The Reverend had said "Repent!" But that did not ease the shame, nor the prying eyes and callous whispers. For repenting with words, is non for gain. Her actions needed to shout. I'm sorry.
You say; 'There are worse things that could have happened!' Because he didn't touch me with his hands, but I was raped none-the-less. He didn't need to touch my body, all he had to do was get into my head; To make me see, that I was his, and his alone. 'Nobody will ever want someone … Continue reading There are worse things.
I wish you would kiss me, I wish you would hold me, I wish you would let me in. I wish for rainy day embraces, I wish for handpicked flowers, I wish to stay in your arms for hours. I wish for you to tell me how you feel.
I saw you for the first time in three years. You were seated, seven rows from me to my right. I was there for my friends graduation, and you were there for your girlfriends. Seeing you there, in your suit and tie, caused my pain. I grieved a life I could have had, and went … Continue reading I saw you.
Today, my brain is screaming "give me a reason to live!" This catastrophization is the result of me taking my medication late. There are shakes, as if going into withdrawal, dry lips and weak knees, and tears. All symptoms of the let-down. On days like these, my sanity is lost.
I've spent a lot of time Hating myself. And a lot more time Hating my creator. Simply because Instead of ticking like everyone one else I was created to tock.
You look at me and I'm sixteen again. Giddy and girly, Lost in the ambrosia of romance, With muddled words and awkward hands.
My heart is happy. Buzzing, Like ones does after 5 cups of coffee; Or so I'm told. I don't drink coffee, but that's beside the point. My heart is happy. And that's amazing, Because for a long time It wasn't.