one of the saddest things to bear witness to is the sudden realisation of their own mortality. she says that she's old and she doesn't want to die. she calls aged care homes a prison, and she doesn't want to collapse into the arms of death from inside a cage. that daughter that she stabbed [...]
Tag: #poet
today is a better day
today is a better day. not so much an empty shell but a cracked one with feelings trickling through, a lost soul fighting its way into its Home. i'm smiling. it doesn't take as much effort to move the muscles of my face and showcase a feeling a thought, i'm here. it's a [...]
feminism: a reality check.
I just don't really agree with feminism, you say, I love men, so how could I perpetuate an ideologue that demeans them? I find catcalls flattering, you claim, it is nice to know that men find me attractive. It's just a joke, you say, when a man calls me a cheeky bitch Just some harmless [...]
matching flower tattoos & motorbike gears
she was driving when I looked over from the passenger seat. one hand on the wheel, the other adding emphasis to her words a telling symptom of her greekness. like a meteor shredding through earth’s atmosphere smashing into earth’s plains and distorting the landscape, i was suddenly and inexplicably hit by the mortality of the [...]
go eff yourself, mate
nothing it seems will fill the gaping hole of my soul. you mistaken pain grief loneliness you mistaken the rupturing of my self as easy fucking access to the shell i leave behind. - go fuck yourself, mate.
i’m not like you
I won’t let myself be broken down, shattered shards of a deconstructed self. I won’t let myself break under the weight of worlds bearing down on my shoulders. But I know one thing. I’m not like you. You, who refuses to live in the present but picks at the scars of the past. You, who [...]
unwanted affection (don’t touch me).
is it too much to ask for consent. is it too emasculating for him to even consider a no. a stop. a don’t touch me. (victim blaming) shaming slut. whore. She asked for it, they say. But she wasn’t asked anything It was taken Stolen. Why do we ignore him? Why isn’t he held accountable? [...]
beauty is a construct
beauty is a construct. it forces, enforces, standards of beauty to conform to an institutionalisation of individual suppression. you are unique. you are the only you in existence. be you without fear, rebel against the authority which deigns to speak about the wonderment of your face. - because you are beautiful, love.
fuck you, we won’t fight in your wars #staywoke
i find myself exhausted. a bone-deep inescapable tiredness, an amalgamation of frustration, like cleaved nails scouring across a hard textured surface. indelicate obscene and overwhelmingly bloody fucking annoying. Malfunctioning dildos like the, Donald Trump’s Pauline Hanson’s and Mike Pence's of the world; stains on the very fabric of that which is the equality and humanity we [...]
the impermanence of your permanence.
it’s easier to say that you’re dead, instead of just, you left and never looked back. how ironic that the prospect of your death would be easier to handle than watching you walk away so casually, (a voluntary abandonment). it's easier to say that you're dead rather than remember how my mother's tears created permanent [...]
