Into the Woods

I see her standing there in a state of wild fear and bewilderment, every muscled fiber of her body was tensed ready to flee. There was a familiar scent in the air, it was colored with the imagery of wooded plains and summer heat that was conjured in my mind. The glossy silver of her coat reflected the dappled sunlight streaming through the canopy. With an arrow notched, I was aiming and ready. This animal was merely existing outside of my range, I had chased it for many a month and yet I could not bring myself to stoop so low. I, her death, had finally come for her and alas I knew today was not the day. She embodied all that I had ever wanted and the memories of times long past. I could not end her. I slouch down between the roots of an old oak and agonize over my decision. A whistling caught my attention in time to see another’s arrow fall short of where she was standing and like an explosion, she was gone away. I stare off wistfully in the direction she had gone and realized that it was never meant to be. She was something to be admired from afar with pure intentions; the second your heart truly wavers, she will be gone. Let your heart stay pure and your wonders many.


“You Are My Everything.”

I have learned that I cannot be your everything. I cannot be anyone’s everything; because if I am your everything, what happens to me? Relationships have periods of time in which the amount of effort for each party differs. It isn’t always 50/50, it can be 80/20 or 100/0 at times. This doesn’t make it wrong. It becomes a problem when the percentages don’t fluctuate. You cannot spend your entire relationship manufacturing the other’s happiness or motivation. However if you get into the situation where you make your partner your world, you force the other party to either let you fall or hold you up constantly. I was stuck in a position where I had to manufacture another person’s world every day. If I took a day off; my partner wouldn’t eat healthy (unless his parents cooked it, but he is 30) and typically just wait. It’s like my presence was the only thing keeping his routine on track. I cannot do that again.

Ebony Goddess

Where have I been you all ask? Out and about and gathering pictures for this very thing! My friend and I happened to be taking pictures along the water. 

I had been seeing this girl for awhile and now we were on a make or break moment of our relationship: the first road trip. We had just arrived, but before we even got to the hotel she demanded we pull over.

“Baby, we’ve been driving all night. Let’s stop to see the ocean!” she said with that thick accent I love so much. It reminded me of my childhood.I really want to keep driving and just check in, but I know I can’t resist her. 

We pull over into a parking lot, there are no free places to park. I look at the parking meter and decide that since we won’t be too long, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. She was already out of the car and walking toward the sand dunes. Pausing in the shade of a palm tree, she looks back at me and her expression portrays happy and questioning. I scramble to catch up to her, I know that I didn’t want to miss a minute. We had had some tense conversations in the car on our way up, so I was pleasantly surprised when I felt her fingers slip into the vacant spot in my palm. I hold her hand tight. I want her to feel how sorry I was for my shortcomings with her parents and how I knew that I spent too much time out with my friends. I need her to know that all I want in life is her.

We walk in silence through the sand dunes, hand in hand, until we reached the end of it. The pristine turquoise water had only small waves that lapped tenderly at the white sandy shore. The sound of bugs chirping was quieted by the shushing of the waves. She let out a sigh that she had been holding the whole car ride. She let the beauty wash her clean of worry. We both start removing our shoes as she whispers, “This is perfect baby, thank you.”

The sand is warm between my exposed toes, I excuse myself to check out the water. I glance back and take in how stunning she looks. The sun glistens off of the deep rich tones in her skin, the little she has showing. Neither of us are dressed for the beach; but never the less, I am amazed how she captivates my attention. Her tee shirt and jeans hug her ample curves and she catches my eye. I quickly turn to face the sea. I know that look in her eye and the meaning, she knows she is beautiful and she accepts that I am drawn to her. I dip my toes in the water and let the slight temperature difference focus my thoughts.

The Song of Joys

“Oh the joy of my spirit — it is uncaged –it darts like lightning!

It is not enough to have this globe or a certain time,

I will have thousands globes and all times.”

I have been unleashed from the bonds of my silent captors, my mind. I relinquished the crown to a substance more fickle than what might seem fit; but once it was done, it shall not revert to its previous state. Inside me the roaring of a lion was masked by bars of iron and its beauty was tainted. It slouched lifelessly in the back of its cage, murmuring soft complaints in place of the ferocity it would have contained. Now the bars are gone at least briefly and the lion shakes out its mane. My soul, my soul has been freed. It is weary from fighting the repression; but now it flies, no darts with the spine tingling sensation of electricity. It flows with unprecedented speed from cloud to cloud seeing all that it can before striking down with such intensity to either mar the surrounding area or awe inspiring with its power. The entire world and its numerous experiences lay ripe at my feet. I can either collect the bountiful harvest and be fulfilled or I can let them rot on the vine and be as hollow and empty as the field shall be come winter. I must no longer tarry. Life is not going to wait for me.

Walking among the masses of people, I see how many are drinking from the fountain of life and I see a new perspective. Our lives are infinitesimally small and it would be impossible to gather all that this life has to offer. We not only need to live our lives, but live through others as well. Allow them to help gather the fruits of that field and obtain their knowledge secondhand. We are engineered to be at least slightly communal. We require one another to ascend into the most we can be. We have learned to pass knowledge and thoughts and to help lift one another into a more holistic being. We should not allow ourselves to be limited to a certain set of information, looking for all viewpoints on all issues will help see the world more clearly. Everyone has something they can teach another. 

I have embraced this lifestyle, but was scared. I was intimidated by the lion’s roar and I have learned that it is my own. I wanted acceptance, but feared rejection. The deep gravel in my pitch marked a soul much older than its body and I didn’t know if it could fit into this society. I now have seen the beauty and strength it has given me. I can go anywhere and belong, be anyone and still be true to myself, and I know that it is not to be muffled. Caging my soul leads only to disaster, because I can always feel its call resonating through every cell in my body. I cannot allow life to pass me by. I want to drink in every glorious second and see all the simple things that others pass by. I will never close my eyes so I don’t miss a second.

“O the joy of that vast elemental sympathy which only the human soul is

Capable of generating and emitting in steady and limitless floods”

Excerpts from “A Song of Joys” by Walt Whitman

To The Gentleman

Let me show you where my innocence lies.
I want you to see where I nearly died.
It starts with society. We raise our children with set notions and instill attitudes that last through generations. I’m not talking solely about girls in pink with Barbies and boys in blue with G.I. Joes. I’m addressing a nation that is teaching shame and hatred to all the young girls and boys. Not all of the kids subscribe to the indoctrination that we shove in their face, hidden in the ideals of “normality”.We teach that the female body is shameful. It is something to be hidden. It is something that turns sane men into criminals and savages. What is the sex appeal of budding globs of fat on a woman’s body. If men can walk around topless why couldn’t I? Before the time I was sixteen, I was flat chested as any guy at that age and probably as much muscle mass. Why is it so wrong? Even if it does arouse people, shouldn’t they have the restraint in their will not to act on primal urges? That is where we are teaching more inaccuracies, “boys will be boys” is wrong. They should be held accountable for their actions, not excused. This leads to the pathetic excuses similar to “her clothing provoked me”. There is no excuse to despicable behavior like this. No one should have to experience that pain, it is suffocating. The pain and shame that hang around your neck elicit irrational responses. You must have deserved it. It wasn’t really rape or sexual assault. This is wrong. This needs to end. For the women and men who have been traumatized by the actions and the social backlash that accompanies it, know that you are not alone and that change and healing can happen.
I plead to you, Gentlemen.
Remember this when the person you plan to get intimate with is incoherent due to drugs or alcohol. Remember it when you someone being harassed, it doesn’t take much to make that person’s day better. Remember this when you hold your younger family members. You have an impact on society. Please help teach the boys of tomorrow that women do not owe them sex, that they are responsible for their actions, and that this era demands for there to be equality for gender and social class.


I am scared. I feel so alone. I know this is part of the reason that I am almost always in a relationship. I have felt alone for so long, I just need someone all the time. I am so needy. I grew up as an only child, which has its perks, but companionship is not one of them. I did everything by myself for the most part. My dad couldn’t just put me in the corner, because I would enjoy my time making up fanciful stories about anything and everything. The small amounts I did get, got smaller as time passed. My younger siblings were born when I was ten and time became even more scarce. My father got worse as time went on and he began he mission of emotional abuse and manipulation. I was segregated from my siblings since I was a tool in my mom’s master plan. I would spend hours in my room by myself and stare at the wall. After I moved and could have boyfriends and friends, I had my newest sexual assaulter with me. I had no close female friends; so instead, anyone who threw their attention at me was my new closest confident. It didn’t matter if they hurt me, the pain they inflicted was better than being as lonely as I had always been. So it went for three long years. I am now in a serious committed relationship of almost a year and I am so dependent upon him. I need his happiness, his presence is a candle in the darkness of my own mind. There are too many demons for me to handle on my own, but I can’t seem to fully open up to him. The walls surrounding my heart are too thick and the padlock around my darkness is too complex to pick. Only when I am alone do both melt before my eyes as water would in the desert. I need him, yet I do not trust him. He seems bored or tries to make inapt analogies comparing our pasts. There is nothing he could bring up that I would completely draw comparison to. I know that is his attempt to understand me, but it is just not enough. He almost seems bored with it sometimes. He seems bored with me. I told him that I have always taken the unpaved road in life and that will always be part of my personality. He replied with how it doesn’t have to be a part of my future and can cease effecting me. He told me I just need to be eighteen and to enjoy it. I don’t even know what that means. I haven’t enjoyed much of anything for awhile, especially relating to my age. All I could do is smile dumbly and nod, hoping the topic would change. I like to pretend everything is perfect. There is nothing that scares me more than turmoil and how I react to it. I become a demon. I get filled with hatred, I have no regard for anyone else’s emotions. I will emotionally destroy someone just to make a point. I hurt him so much as is. I can’t forget each time I push him to breaking. I figure it is easier to hold all my emotions on the inside or distract myself from them. The times he gets fed up with me scare me. It isn’t because he is in the slightest bit violent. He gets loud enough to command my attention and gives me a miniature tirade. It foreshadows how bad it could get if he was actually angry. Conflict makes me want to retreat and my own anger makes me want to hide. It reminds myself of my father. It makes me hate myself. This is similar to all of the things that the “voices” in my head say to me. I put voices in quotes. because they are not actual voices. They are all my negative thoughts personified by my father’s voice, demonizing him further in my mind. It goes something like this: I single roll appears on my stomach when I bend over or more of my body jiggles than I remember is equal to “You’re fat”, “How disgusting”, and “this today, obesity the next”; I don’t do as well as I hope academically and it warrants comments like “stupid”, “failure”, and “worthless”; or I spend a couple days off calls for “lazy” and once again “worthless”. I beat myself up over everything. Almost all the time. It hurts a lot and leads to worse things. I feel I am undeserving of the oxygen in my lungs. I shouldn’t have a roof over my head. I used to believe I didn’t deserve to live. I try hard not to listen to that one, but in all seriousness I don’t deserve to live. I feel I am the scum of the earth. I don’t even know my crime that I have committed to warrant such a steep punishment. I hate myself. I hate myself a lot. Part of me is cured and bleached from all these thoughts. This side allows me to function in day to day life and appear to be a normal happy healthy young adult. I am showing my other side. I am showing the darkness that settles over my mind when I am alone for too long. It makes me sick. I revert back to depressed habits. I had close to five servings for dinner today. I wish I was free. I could never show him this. I’ll probably post it and hope he notices.

Oh the Places You Will Go

I don’t belong in your world, it is beautiful and graceful and full of things to see. That is all I’d ever do however is look through the glass, because it is not me and never will be. I will always peer longingly, but know that that is not where I belong and never will belong. I will crave your tantalizing harmonic notes of your voice and your cool effervescent style, the confidence you wear wherever you go and the light faux smile. That is your world, however that is your world alone. Your world seems to have no mud or muck. It is a place of perfection where my clumsiness would be unwelcome. I would be unsophisticated enough to dine by your side. Not beautiful enough to be strictly arm candy. Not brainy enough to have a leading role im conversation. I wouldn’t really fit anywhere. I am me. I am the early morning dew, fresh and untainted by the soils of the day. I am the fawn in the meadow, cautious and jovial with a first time view to all I see. I am the comforter on a cold winter night, supportive and safety till dawn break again. I am not of that world from whence you came. I know that and with indifference the same, I crave that sincere complexity. This is the world I dreamed of. A land of pearls and lace, may the rich get richer and the poor be lost in reveries of my past. I know that this craving cannot be healthy lest I yearn for early death to conform to an existence in which I don’t belong. As long as I live let me crave your exotic skin, but let it live on my lops alone for any farther would be sin. So in time, let me be betrothed and still carry on in pleasure all the wonders of living in my own world.