I’ve been writing a lot. It’s all about him, which makes me a little sick.
I have an art show coming up in which I will display my poetry. I wish everyone in the world could see it. I wish he could see it.
I realized
I was through with the burden of feet. Instead,
I am going to become a mermaid. If i am going to be stared at, it should at least be because I’m beautiful.
I have always liked the ocean, the promise
of depth. I am tired of this dry world,
all of this dust and sickness, these barren fields.
I want to dive without drowning. I want to kiss sharks. I want to braid my hair with seaweed and mythology.
I want men to carve me into the bows of their ships
like a prayer, before I lure them into the depths
with my fishnet mouth. I want the beauty,
the gorgeous mutation, the legend of half body.
All the wisdom of a woman, without the failures of sex.
I am plunging. I am sinking. I am not coming up for air.
I do not want all this human,
my legs move like they resent being legs,
my body is wrecked by all this gravity.
I cannot face another morning waking up
with no hope of a fairytale. Here on land, i cannot move. Here on land, i cannot breath.
I am always drowning. Here on land,
I cannot move.
-Part of Your World, Clementine von Radics (via clementinevonradics)
(via thegirlwhocrieswolf)
You say that you love the sun, but you find a shadow spot when the sun shines.
You say that you love the wind, but you close your windows when wind blows.
This is why I am afraid, you say that you love me too.
-Unknown
I’ve been waiting for some news, and the longer I wait the more I don’t care to hear it.
A few months back I asked my mom why she left my dad. She told me that with a new life to care for (me) everything else was a little less important, including the love of her life who couldn’t make up his mind.
While I don’t have a child to care for, you helped me create this new life by shoving me into it. I was discarded from your life like a trophy stored in a box in the garage. You told me I could call on you at anytime, but shouts can’t be heard from beneath closed lids. I receded and sought assistance from others, who were happy to provide it. And I continued to scream your name but the box you placed me in for safekeeping grew deeper. I had to cut into the side of it to escape.
I made a life without you. A life that doesn’t necessarily accommodate you. A life full of pursuits and adventures and laughter.
A life that feels a little strange, because it isn’t one that includes you.
A life that feels a little normal, because it isn’t one that includes you.
I’ve been waiting for your answer, and the longer I wait the more I don’t care about the question.
-Michael Faudet (via michaelfaudet)
(via thegirlwhocrieswolf)
