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This is not the kind of thing you’d normally see me post here. However, I am blessed to have people who have been following me for years who actually care about my well-being. I guess the disappearance of my writing pages on IG has caused alarm for long time followers/friends and it felt necessary to
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When love starts to take on that translucent haze You realize how temporary all the plans you made really were You start to see the future with bare sides, empty hands, steel heart You tell yourself you’ve been here before and it was silly to think you wouldn’t be just in this exact spot again
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they are merciful and delicate flowersI am a fucking sledgehammer and isn’t it true that most will almost always prefera palm full of soft petalsover a fistful of metal the blood& the bones I cannot comprehend what it must be like to be so limited in depth and dimension, to be so predictablebut I suppose
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Maybe it would have been easier if I had been ready if I had been more like the ones before And I don’t know if I’ll ever know the feeling of loving anyone as much all those writers profess but I’m here And I won’t leave, falter or crumble ever the blood & the bones
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I’ve learned to smile as if it all came to fruitionevery inclination I was taught to strive forI do want thisbut I also want to yearn for something againI want to feel my insides churn with needing a thing I can’t have so easilyor feeling something I wasn’t made to containI want my fingers to
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Those nights lying next to you were the worstI watched your back rise and fall in restwhile the rage and humiliationI held inside my neglected bodybuilt and burned and rolled into itselfbecoming something alive and vengefula thing far worse than what was given All day I had waitedI had cooked and cleanedI had loved and
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From a very young age I wanted to be something other than what I was.Most of my formative years spent praying to God to be like everyone else.To be what I thought was beautiful, but not in a way that brought attention. Therapists always want me to pinpoint when it began. They say it’s the
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everyone thinks I’m a wanderermaybe I wasbut lost is a foreignword to the gyspyand to those who know what you can learn to feel when you stick around beyond lustI may be a rambling womanor is that only for men?but if I sit still long enoughperhaps I could be found each time you enter and
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promise methat somedayyou’ll agreethat I was not a villiannot a willing monster just lost and then he showed up and the way was clearer than it had ever been but pleasedon’t remember meas someonewho did notlove you the blood& the bones
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you can find many words for couragegrit, fortitude, braveryeven valor for the right situation whatever it is, I don’t have enough of it to tell youof the life we could’ve hadwhat good would it be to pass this pain on to someone else? but I will make it up to youfor in the nextI do
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The Blood & The Bones 