Messy Journals Have My Heart

messy journals have my heart

college.

i’m hungry now- empty and yearning for the experience i dreamt of. of ivy covered libraries and freedom and kissing girls and heated discussions somewhere far, far away. nothing matches the image, its just beyond my reach. i want to run to it and grab it in my hands but they are too small, too young, too poor. I own nothing, not even the hair on my head. he has made this that much clearer. my pockets are empty and i am starving. i want to sit in my twin-size bed and not hear my phone ring. i want silence, like when a seed rests deep in the dirt. i want to grow without being pushed back in. i want to find other people like me and make a family for myself. not the kind that he force feeds to me, but the kind where the only entry requirement is unconditional love. in that day dream unconditional love exists for people like me. sometimes when i sit at a table with him i feel like frankenstein’s monster, mish mash of ugly cadaver parts. but somewhere there are other monsters, making friends with each other and studying in libraries and hosting pride parades. i’m sick of the dungeon, i’m starving. 

AI art and humanity

lavender

"Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was always just red." - Kait Rokowski