I don’t know what I was thinking. When you asked if I was busy my first thought was to make up some lie about a party or somewhere I just had to be, but I didn’t. I went and gathered all the things I knew I’d need for a few hours of Skype. The conversation flowed easily as if it hadn’t been over…
I watched your daughter’s YouTube video.
Before it, an ad with a scantily clad woman
mascara gripped between perfectly manicured nails
with instructions about how to achieve
You taught your daughter to love her body
in accordance with the desires of men
when you should’ve taught her that the love she has for herself
is between her and her only.
I will teach MY daughter that, some days,
she’ll wish she was more playdough than woman
so she could mould herself into the images
forced at us from every angle
because when we’re young,
we idolise our mums more than we idolise barbie
and it’s been a vicious cycle.
We’ve all tried to cut ourselves down to size.
We all have scars to prove it.
I will teach my daughter that she doesn’t need a metaphor to love her stretch marks,
that the markings of her skin
have no bearing on her existence.
It’s all in our heads.
And if our heads aren’t made up, hair styled, perfect complexion and pale skin
that is okay.
It is all okay.
And I hope she grows and takes up space,
that she will know that nobody is entitled to the landscape of her body,
that she doesn’t have to smile.
That she does not fear her emotions, or her bodily functions,
that she will come to terms with her reproductive cycle and the trials we face as women.
On top of all that,
she does not need to worry
about having enough booty to satisfy the man or the woman she chooses to lie with at night.
I hope your daughter knows
that there is more to life
than the junk she has in all the right places.
I hope she knows that she is not disappointing anybody.
I hope she truly loves herself.
I hope she learned it from you.
—Elka Tolhoek, “An Open Letter To Meghan Trainor’s Mum” (via elkayvonne)
I often wonder,
wander my imagination,
and ponder plans to plunder
cadence from from undiscovered
Face it. We’ve all got limitations.
These harsh realities are only as
bleak as we make them.
Freedom and happiness are birthrights.
Our interpretation of life…
I started writing a poem the other day
About wanting to thank my ex boyfriend
For giving me a spine
And teaching me to stand up for myself
Because I’ve always believed in silver linings
But I stopped writing it because I realized I was just lying
The truth is I’m still as spineless as I was when our relationship began
I never walked away from you
You walked from me
And I think that says a lot
When your abuser
Finds you boring
I don’t want to write another poem about you
The trees weren’t cut down
So I can write your autobiography
And read it to strangers like scripture
You were supposed to be a chapter
Not the whole goddamn book
And I think that says a lot about character
When I’m still writing about old news
I spent the summer in my therapists office
Where she started saying things like
And as she’s reciting the diagnoses to my parents,
I’m sitting on the couch thinking,
“You were right. I’m fucking crazy, but you know, shit happens, it builds character.”
But now I’m thinking
I’ve built up my character enough
To the boys who found out about you,
And pretended to be nice
Because they knew I was vulnerable
And saw me as damaged goods
Not good enough to date
But good enough for a night
I want to say fuck you
You knew I was going through hell
And you used that to get your fix
But I can’t blame you
Because I used you too
I wanted you to fuck the numbness out of me
As if that were even possible
I’m not going to lie to you and say that I found a spine while writing this poem
I mean, fuck,
I don’t stand up here because I’m whole
I stand up here because I think snaps and applause will somehow
Fill the void you left behind
I’m still damaged goods
—Damaged Goods by Orianna Valentina (via sappy—bullshit)
I’ve tried my hardest to see you when have you ever asked to see me?
A Love So Deep
You slept in my bed last night and all I felt were my insides tearing me apart.
and your coat
though you’ve taken
it off still
holds a part of you
the weather is
walking a tight rope
the clouds can’t decide what
they’re going to
if they’re going to fade away,
dig in and
stay for the week
and take us
and we move towards the last
day of the month
towards the next weekend
a beam of sound
sending jetstreams of smoke
a world that
Something I found on the internet
Visit: http://ift.tt/1pLHrMT 😶that’s true😶 #quotes #qoutes #love #lovers #littlegirl #loveisblind #loveneverdies #inspirationkita #ikawlangangmahalq #onlyme #art #justanordinarygirl #edits #retrica #yourmyinspiration #youremyonlybestfriend #smile #findways #follow4follow #cute #crush #bestfriendkita #bestfriendzone #musicneversleeps
When the wrong peoples come around thats when you know things is about to be shaky. You gotta know how to not even think much of them.
—JuiicyXyourichii (via lovelyxwild-nofear)
Our relationship will be like ketchup.
Red, slow, and filled and anticipation.
I’ll wake you up at 4am just because I need to go for a drive,
and we’ll chase the moon before it disappears into yesterday.
Waffles will be the main course at dinner six times a month.
And I’ll tell you that you…