GRR!!
I’ve waited too long to be a strong woman. I’ve waited too long to hold my own head up high. Without holding up some male’s head who ultimately gives me nada but an orgasm and a heartache.
I feel hopeless. Someone take my hand and show me the way. No. I can’t have that either, obviously. But I’m used to strange luck, and sighing to the earth when my poetry is rejected.
I want my voice to be heard, I want it to be noticed and I want it to inspire.
I’m 23, and I haven’t yet learned the way to expose correctly.
My poetry is tendered safely, not always am I satisfied unless I make it mundane because that’s when I get all points across, and I’ve reached some sort of acceptance. When it’s spicy and firey it’s something I’ve usually balanced out about later and I regret showing it— then the feeling of what I wrote comes back to haunt me later… so perhaps it is okay to just force out my initial words, you know… because it’s either okay to me or not; the rest of the world assumes their own judgement for which i have absolutely no control over.
Dear angels, just hold me.
Just hold me tight and squeeeze meh!
Make juice out of me.
2 years ago