Hardly A Poem - Tumblr Posts
this time last week i felt like my life was over and did not plan on continuing today i have laughed more than i ever have before it may be overused advice but it really is worth it to keep going.
"for a while, it felt like sex was all we did. the second we were alone, our clothes came off. i was content with this for some time - happy, even - but then i came to wonder whether it was me that you loved or my body. yesterday, we had fun. youthful, giggling fun that left us both is a laughing fit. i do not think i have ever laughed so hard. while i enjoy having sex, i want to laugh with you, too."
-- a message to my love
maybe i really have misunderstood my mother all this time.
an author told me to write how can i let her down?
when i was 12 i realised that my attraction was not limited to boys i made minor hints to test the waters with my other but never wished to do anything with it on our way to girl guides she asked me whether i liked girls i denied it i wish that she told me that she would still love me as a sinner.
"my parents are immigrants and i have adopted their accent this has caused the people of this country to judge me the second i open my mouth they view me as an outsider - different for some reason they have resented me for it and all i know is that the way that i speak has ruined my chance at making something of myself and i fear that i cannot undo it."
-- second gen immigrant
"not enough is being done to protect us this school doesnt care regardless of what we have done for it simply because we are different it seems that being queer has stripped us of our humanity in their eyes."
-- homophobic high school
exams are what decimate the small amount of confidence i have cultivated over the past year i call them The Annual Reckoning.
i hate the pressure that comes from the annual testing when i find out whether the hundreds of hours of studying were worth it although it never seems to be.
it simply becomes me i cannot merely read it it becomes a part of me the words become my own my performances do the same the characters i portray they become a part of me it seems that i can enjoy nothing without destroying myself for it.
not even my mother views me as a priority maybe i am just a stupid little girl.
maybe i am a people pleaser i long to be loved by all and fear being hated however i never seem to get what i want.
that girl was in pain i went to who i thought could help ease it but they denied me they claimed that her peril could only be resolved if they sought the assistance themselves she could have died that day.
writers dating readers non-readers
i know that writers love the idea of dating a reader because having someone read what they write sounds beautiful and romantic, but i raise you this:
a writer dating a non-reader. the writer writing love letter upon love letter and them still. getting. read. their partner reading what they write because they love them - not because they love to read.
a pure and devoted kind of love.
i hope that some day they will enjoy my words.
when you insult your body you insult my own for so many call me a reflection of you.
i am a mirror of my mother.
when i was a girl i did not know that there was anything wrong with my body. now i see the cracks.
i have always been too much. too loud too big too mean too kind too clever too stupid too much. everyone seems to agree.
i feel that in every moment i am someone else refusing to stay consistent yet it remains not of my own volition. i cannot be myself for my body shall not let me.
how could you possibly
be so blind
to what you have done
to me?
***
how could i possibly
be so blond
to what you have done
for me?