Poetry

Sharlene Pena

I've always been a flower.

One whos peddles fall one by one.
Slowly flowing through the air and gently kissing the cold ground.
A flower who has been mistreated
And walked over.

I've yearned for acceptance and unconditional understanding from people i love.
Never noticing that
They don't love me back.
Not until,
They see my peddles falling.

I've been too vulnerable
Not cautious enough.
I've been too understanding
Not assertive enough.
I've been too insecure
Not perfect enough.

My flaws follow me like the stench of cigarette smoke on clothes of someone who's had a long day.
Or
The scars of someone battling with demons they woukd rather hide from.

My demons
My flaws
My scars

All reminiscent
Of the peddles i let fall.

Impression

Julian//24// Palm Beach Fl

The mind interprets what the eyes see.Would’nt have thought what Id see would cause my heart to cease .Yet I still breathe. Even though your heart is taken , I still find myself waiting.. Going on frivolous dates n having pointless conversations. Rationalizing my emotions is like bottling up an ocean. Wanna approach ya but sudddenly I’m just frozen. Got every word pronoun and verb to convey these thoughts. But convinced by reality that I’ve already lost. Gave me a chance some time ago and I squandered it . Now when I see you in public I’m left pondering . What if I didn’t make the mistakes that you’d never state. What you fell in love, if we made to that fourth date.

Depression

  Annette // 19 // south fl // @snapesgal    

they were used to numb,
like novocaine at the dentist.
because when we were younger,
we were taught to distract pain by
creating more pain.
the habit is deemed childish from
the mouths of adults who will never understand.
forcing me to move to the habit of
burning my lips on cigarettes
and dreaming of becoming so drunk that
i forget how much i hate myself.
realizing how much i hate myself.
moving to needles and lines,
because cutting and smoking
didn’t do it’s job.
becoming more and more consumed
by the depression,
as if I'm drowning in water and no one
is brave enough to save me.
i’m not brave enough to save me.
day after day my mother tells me
if i “just pray to god” then i will be
saved,
my depression will be gone
because the light of god is too powerful
for darkness to handle.

but would he really save me,
if he knew how much i hate me.

a.t

Sailors Song

Angenette Navedo//Localhoodmom//WPB   

A siren is all you’ll ever be

The words once said to me, words that cut deeper than any coral at the bottom of the sea

How could it be, that after circling the ship I still became lost at sea

As clear as the water when the sun hits was my love for you, think it not true but

But all in all, I’d grow legs for you

I’d trade in a fin if there was still a love you could fit me in

Shed my scales so dark and my skin so rough for some legs soft to your touch

Years at sea, the life I’d known to be was something no longer for me, as I want to be taught to breath

How a sailor enchanted a siren I cannot come to explain, it wasn’t lust and it wasn’t to cause pain,

A siren once known only for its voice had found a sailor worth changing her tone

Was it those eyes that resembled the sea?

Or the sailors uniform and how you fit so snug in those white tees?

What is the beauty I found in your voice, cracked but still being the only sound as soothing as the ocean?

I can’t wrap my mind around the way you’ve left me blind, leaving me in the ocean that once was mine, realizing I forgot how to swim and still refusing to throw me a line, sailor Saenz, why aren’t you mine? Sailor Saenz how have you took over my mind, what tune did you play, can I hum the lines? Can I sing along, can we dance to this song? Sailor Saenz the depths you dropped me in are too dark for even I, Sailor Saenz please don’t leave me blind. The waves are strong and this isn’t a current Ive experienced in so long, Sailor Saenz please sing me your sailors song.

A.N

Girl in the Night

Fred Recio//Union CityNJ// @p.a.p.i._tyb

Girl in the night,
If I ever met someone so ever beautiful it had to be you
Black hair, Tanned skin, got me acting a fool,
And If it's alright, I’d love you to take my hand,
And I’ll swoon you into morning’s delight.
Girl in the night.

Girl in the night,
We’ll dance this dance to the end of time,
Have you speaking all foreign languages at a drop of a dime,
Caressing your figure and succumbing to every thought,
I knew from the beginning this was what you sought.
Girl in the night.

Girl in the night,
Our bodies intertwined leaving no commotion,
You'd think the way I worked was locomotion,
The love we made is my only ration,
For that’s all I need to reach the destination,
Girl in the night.

Girl in the night,,
This became an Ali-Frazier fight,
Seven, Eight? Those rounds are outta sight,
You know I’m not giving up anytime soon,
So when you done we’d be wrapped up like a cocoon,
Girl in the night.

Girl in the night,
You have a starry gaze,
That drives me to a craze,
And your smile shines bright like the moon,
Oh if I stay with you, I’m ending up in the tomb.
Girl in the night.

Girl in the night,
My destination is in one more stop,
The way you making me feel has my body drop,
And yet I want more and more,
By the end we’d reach 10-1 and you’ll finally scored.
Girl in the night.

Girl in the night,
You have me seeing the twilight,
The heavens and the highlights,
Tonight was such an amazing time,
And tomorrow is gonna be just as fine.
Girl in the night.

Dropped a feel good for y'all, many more to come.

2:35 A.M. Monologue

Vanessa Tavera

Why the fuck is no one up at 2:35 A.M when I have the recurring thoughts of having my wrists slit and the images are so vivid so beautifully vivid in fact that all my senses liven I Can Feel The Soft Tickle Of The Blade Against My Skin Right Before I Decide That It Is Time It Is Time To Do It Do It NOW I'M PRESSING It DEEP And I'm DRAGGING It LONG And I Stop For A Second But just One Second Only One Second Because I Can't Think Too Much About It Or Else I'll End Up Quitting And Haven't I Done That Enough Already So I Start Again I Place The Blade Again Right Where I Started Even Though It Burns A Little But I Tell Myself It'll ALL Be Over Soon And I DIG The Blade In THROUGH My Skin And Slice A Vein And For A Second It's Unbearable THERE'S A POP But For A Second More It's Just So Good So I Drag It I Tell Myself To DRAG IT Because I'm Almost There I'm Almost There And I Stop And Lift The Blade From The Inner Of My Body Stopping Just Before My Elbow And That's When I Feel That I Am Burning And My Body And My Heart Is Yearning For Help But My Mind Is Relaxed As I Sit There And The Blood Isn't Trickling Like Previous Times No It's Not It's Gushing It's Really Gushing And I Can Tell No I Know That I'll Be Gone In A Second Oh The Burning Is Refreshing How Relieved I'll Be Finally I Just Have To Wait A Little More And Suddenly My Mind Is On My Mother And I Try To Push The Thought Aside But The GUILT is So Heavy And IT JUST WON'T GO AWAY And Now All I Can Do Is Wait It's The Last Hurt My Heart Will Ever Feel I Am Almost Gone And In These Last Few Seconds I Don't Think Of All The Boys I Loved Or The Mistakes I Made Or The Fact That I Could Have Maybe Gone Through With Life I Just Think Of My Mother And The Tears I'll Leave Her In When She Finds Me Sprawled Against The Floor Without Even A Letter Shit Maybe She Would Have Appreciated A Letter.

-v.t

A quick self reflection

Milton Vargas//HobokenNJ

I read somewhere that at age 24, Oprah was getting fired from her job as a news anchor. Oprah Winfrey – talk show host, philanthropist, queen of the media Oprah mother-fucking Winfrey wasn’t good enough for her position and was let go. This summer has been a constant self-battle of not feeling good enough and not knowing exactly where I’m going with school and my career but I’ve started to understand something; the universe gives you what you put out. I could cry in bed and live in a constant state of panic because I’m not where I think I should be in life, or I could make strides towards bettering my situation.

 

I quit the job I wasn’t getting paid for, four days a week eight hours a day. I booked a flight across the country, because I’ve never seen the west coast. I planned and prepared to take on my next semester of school better than I have before. Lastly, every day I self-reflect and ask myself, “what am I going to do today to make my tomorrow better?”

 

So if at age 25 J.K. Rowling was fired from her secretary job and clinically depressed, who’s to say my current existential crisis isn’t the beginning of my future empire

 

Is it time?

Emily Del toro

What's inside may not match your standards but will exceed expectations beyond those you may not realize.

 

What's inside, of this, of me, their mind can be unclear and their thoughts analytical. Their heart is kind, yet strong. Their soul, understanding yet selective. They're beautiful and messy. They all are a gem in a massive pile of insincerity.

 

If you're not prepared to fully embrace all that is the gentle, and strong. The messy and orchestrated. The complicated and reasonable. The embodiment of negative emotions with all their positive ones.

 

All in a body that is tough, and genuine. One that is delicate and clumsy.

 

That's spirit is invincible. Powered by the love of the Almighty Sculpture.

 

+

 

"What a lovely disaster you have here." He said to

 

them,

 

puzzled but in deep admiration.

 

We'd reply,

 

"Yes. They're absolutely astonishing, isn't she. The way they all work in her, in her mind. How God fuels her spirit and ignites her flame. Her flame. The flame's so bright. As it burns my eyes, I welcome it's warm embrace. It's welcoming bright smile."

 

She's beautiful. She's so much more than just another person. Another human. She's another spirit. She is they're ideas. She's a view of the world. Of life. Of others. She is love. She is sadness. She's writing her script. She's dancing her dance. Oh what an intricate balance of elegant and jagged movements. Oh how she moves. How she moves others while she moves. How she moves them with her body or if it's just with her lips. They're words. They're ideas flowing out of a perfectly shaped speaker, even with the stuttering sprouted of her shyness and the seconds automatically dedicated to clarifying their ideas before spoken are all quite the show.

 

I can watch her all day.

I find Myself.

Angenette//Localhoodmom

I find myself looking for the lies in every humans truth, the gesture of dishonesty. The lies you told to me wrapped around me warmer and tighter than any embrace two arms could provide. I pity us both, you for only knowing how to hurt those you should shower with love and me for not loving myself enough to realize i deserve more than your hurt. That it wasn't a warm, tight embrace that took my breath away, that had me gasping frantically anytime you were present but more like a death grip around my neck that i couldn't break free of.

Thank God i'm submitting a writing from 2 years ago to my own site and that these feelings no longer resonate deep into my core the way they once did, thank god i learned i deserve nothing but the purest love, a love that flows unconditonal, a love that is indeed the warm embrace around my body and not my neck. Thank god i learned to love myself.

Diane Saenz//WPB//

Jake_Jakefromstatefarm

The smiling flower just like every morning, the sun rises on her face, rosy pink lips, shining like delicate silk lace. And tired eyes moving swiftly to birds awakening the trees, her eyes still reflect the skies, as the clouds quickly flee. The early bird gets the worm, but she rather sleep one more hour, But instead she wakes up blossoming, like a smiling flower.

Bone Deep

Tommy Witoshynsky//WPB// @itsalwaysmybirthday

The sun that rose each morning and disappeared all too soon each evening proved to be just a shallow look-alike of the one that warmed our home towns. The placebo effect of it's gleaming rays no longer offered the warmth for which we pleaded. Many moons ago the whiskey flowed aplenty, keeping our bellies warm and our spirits high, blurring out the horizon and painting pictures of false hope before us. 

 

But our flasks have long since run dry, and the unforgiving winds howl through our hollow bones, stripping away the last bits of livelihood we held onto. With every labored step our knees creak like cemetery gates, and one by one the men realize that all hopes of finding our way back to civilization are foolish and deluded.  

 

A fortnight ago our company came to realize our captain had led us to Death's door, but not one of us holds in our hearts the strength to rebel, or the slightest clue how to lead us home.

 

Every few hours, it seems, our ranks continue to dwindle, as these brave souls drop to their knees with blank faces and indifferent minds, and their hearts cease to beat. We bother not even to glance their way, and shed no tears for our fallen brothers; for all of us are dead, those lucky few have simply learned to let go.

Pussy Poem

Alexis Ford// @Alexis.fym//@fymgirls

You mean to tell me I'm supposed to lay here & let you treat my body like it ain't whole.
Like my body was created to make you feel whole.
Like my body ain't mine.

See you really thought this poem was gonna be all "anti man", it's time to "own my body" type shit.
Nah, not even close.
But see... though this poem is gonna speak some common feminine truth; it's also gonna expose a little your woman's inner freak so men take notes...

Oh I get it..
What your saying is it's time to go for a ride...
You telling me to sit back & just vibe. 
Next thing you know you Going down back streets
I'm stretched out cross back seats
my hands scraping against back heat
Now you got Cum rolling down your leg see...

I like that shit. 
And after the joy ride I knew I'd never question my sexuality again. 
But back to my point. 

I. Like. That. Shit.
I wanna ride till the wheels fall off
Scream till my voice goes out
Grab the seat
Gasp for air
Push you off
Pull you in
Kiss you down
And Lick you up. 

I like to hear the "shit's" and "fucks" 
And the "damn that pussy wet's" after every pull out.
Baby your a mind reader but also a crook.
Always grabbing some shit behind my back.
I can't tell you how you knew what to do when you did what you did
But what I CAN tell you is... you did it right. 
And for that, i applaud you.

Now going back to moral me...
I believe n****s ain't shit! 

But when it comes to that one thing, they damn sure good with it.

Is it too much...?

IamExile_//JerseyCityNJ//https://soundcloud.com/iamexile

Is it too much to say that looking at you gives me chills because I know how cold I could be and you're the only one who keeps me warm?

That the shivers and my trembling feet were warning signs that I was falling deep into this abyss we can call, the L word?

Because it'd be too much to say the word knowing that I've never been yours and you've never been mine, yet you have.

Because even when you're not mine. You're mine.

Because I don't think you understand that in time you'd see what it was about me that made you question the same entity you were trapped in.

Because it didn't make sense as to what it was that would go wrong but it very well did and left me with reasonable doubt that what is to be will not be and that yes you, the girl with the C, are in fact in love with me.

Your every move you've made through the years could only lead me to believe that you are in fact, in love, with me.

But maybe that's a preposterous ideology and I'm overthinking as usual or maybe just maybe, my theory has been right and our future is somewhat on the brink of being bright. 

But there's a shadow.

An ever growing shadow that id like to bring to light and it's, doubt.

My First Heartbreak, Situationships and Advice.

Ty'Asia Bullock//20//NewarkNJ//Blog: theblackgirldiary.wordpress.com//IG:@thepusha.tee

Now as much as I HATE to be your typical 21 year old blogger, this was a topic that would’ve had to be discussed sooner or later… only sooner came way earlier than expected. This post is about *drumroll please* Heartbreak. In my introduction post, I told y’all that this blog would present itself based on my own experiences, with the hopes that my readers could relate. With that being said, I’m experiencing my very first broken heart (boo hoo) so my intention is to share this with y’all, while also finding some type of closure within myself by writing about it So let’s get started. I know that many women my age are familiar with the infamous “situationship.” For those who have no idea what this means- a situationship can be defined as a dynamic where two people do everything together as if they’re in a relationship, without ever fully committing to one another. On the surface, this might sound like an ideal situation to some, but it is anything BUT that. Let me give you a little more depth (based off my own experience of course). Typically, when a girl meets a guy she likes, once they spend some time together and start to develop a connection, she is ready and willing to enter an exclusive relationship with him. Unfortunately, some guys see this as the opportunity to take advantage. While she was thinking that the feelings were mutual, she didn’t know that his original plans were NOT to enter a relationship. Many times, guys date with this mindset: “I’m not looking for anything beyond sex from these women, but if I find someone different from the rest, we’ll see where it goes” and THIS is how the situationship is born. Fast forward a few weeks, they’ve probably spent a good amount of time together, had sex once or twice, maybe even more, and since the guy still hasn’t revealed his true intentions, the girl is thinking that she’s found the one because he shows no sign of being a f*ckboy. (If you don’t know what a f*ckboy is, skip on over to urbandictionary.com. I can’t give y’all all the answers lol) Fast forward a couple more weeks of this same scenario. Now, some time has gone by, and she starts to get weary. She asks that question that makes men across America CRINGE: “So, what are we?” The guy is SHOOK, y’all. He’s feeling the girl. He knows it has potential to go further, and could very well flourish into a great relationship. However, he isn’t ready to abandon the dozens of numbers he’s collected from the girls before her. He’s likely young, and enjoying the freedom of having girls in a revolving door. He does not yet possess the maturity to say “I can see this girl likes me a lot. I know damn well I won’t be ready to commit no time soon and I’m not gonna stop dealing with other bitches so let me be straight up with her and let her make her own decision.” So in order to have his cake and eat it too, he’ll sugarcoat the hell out of what he SHOULD’VE said, and say something like this instead: “I’m not ready for a relationship just yet, but I really do like you a lot and I enjoy spending time with you.” He might even say “I wanna keep kicking it with you, I want you to be my girl eventually” although he has not the slightest clue when “eventually” will come. The girl, with her feelings foolishly and heavily involved by now, is still willing to drop everything for him. She now believes that if she plays her cards right, she can win his heart over any other girl. She’s stopped texting/hanging out with guys she used to entertain because she wants to show him that she’s loyal. She’s sacrificing time with her girls because her mind tells her that the more time she spends with him, the sooner he’ll realize that she’s what he really wants. She’s familiarizing herself with his interests and abandoning her own. What she doesn’t know is that she has just entered the most toxic dynamic there is. And that no matter what she does, no matter how she tries to prove herself “worthy,” it’ll never be enough. Because it seems like all of his attention is focused on her, she doesn’t even consider the fact that he could very well be dealing with a number of females behind her back, but as he starts to get comfortable, the truth slowly begins to surface. She’ll notice girls texting him late at night. She’ll notice that he didn’t text her back for an extended period of time, likely meaning someone else had his attention. He’s TELLING her that she’s his “number one,” that no one comes before her. And that may be true. She might be the one he likes the most. But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s making every girl he’s dealing with feel the exact same way. This cycle goes on for months and months until the girl is damn near broken. In an ideal situation, two things could happen. A, the girl realizes that he’ll never change and builds the strength to leave him, even though it hurts like hell. She’ll be sad, and miss him for a long while, but eventually, she’ll see this as a lesson, and vow to be smarter in the future. B, the guy realizes that what he’s doing is wrong, and even though it runs the risk of her hating him forever, he makes a solid decision to let her go and stick to it, allowing her the freedom to live life until she meets someone who will treat her the way he knows she deserves to be treated. Rarely. And I mean RARELY. Do situationships end in a “Happily Ever After.” Rarely does the guy look at the girl and decide “I’ve put her through enough. I want to make her my girl and do right by her forever.” He’s gotten comfortable being able to straddle the fence, so commitment is the furthest thing from his mind, even though he’s been telling her the opposite to keep her close. This is, more or less, the situation I found myself in… for a little over a year and a half. Granted, it wasn’t all black and white the way I’ve laid it out for y’all, but it rarely is. If it always went as predictable as I described, women would have wised up a long time ago. The reason why we find ourselves in these situations over and over is because, even though we hear horror stories about situationships ALL THE TIME, we like to believe there’s something “special” about our own situationship that’ll prevent us from turning out like the rest. The guy I was dating had serious issues with commitment. The first red flag was when he admitted to me that he had cheated on each of his past girlfriends. On the other hand, he used that as an opportunity to keep me close, by telling me that he cherished me enough to want to do things differently. He didn’t want to just jump into a relationship with me just to hurt me like he did the rest. Looking back, I’m sure he meant that, but he was still just too selfish to actually take the steps to make it happen. I’m not sure why I believed he would, because he never stopped dealing with other girls. He’d cut them off when I found out, but there would always be another. But like I said, every girl wants to believe her man’s “ain’t shit” tendencies are less detrimental than the next man’s for whatever reason. For me, it was the time we spent together. We slept together almost every night. We went to so many concerts I can barely keep track. We celebrated birthdays and holidays together. We went to each other’s family cookouts. We even took a trip to California together. Most of this was on his dime, so trust me I was playing the wifey roll HARD okay lol. He made sure I ate, and anything else I wanted, he’d give it to me if he could. So y’all could imagine how it was easy for me to overlook the fact that he had lied to me and hurt me so many times. I had invested a lot in the relationship as well. I had pretty much become his stay at home wife and honestly, it humiliates me to even say this, knowing what he was out doing behind my back. Without him ever asking me to, I had began to alienate myself from my social circles. When he was out at work, I was cooking and cleaning. When he was in graduate school (during my sophomore and junior year of undergrad) I was even doing his papers from time to time. This was on top of me being a social work major, having an internship with my own caseload, and my own damn papers piling up. I took care of my shit AND his. And overall, I was 100% LOYAL. For a year and a half, I was all about him. On top of that, we had practically moved in together. So all this time, I’m thinking there’s no way in hell we WON’T end up together forever. Look at how great of a team we made. All of his family and friends loved me, and vice versa. But none of them were able to see the toxicity that lied beneath the pictures, concerts, and trips. Now, things have escalated to a point that we’ll never be able to come back from. I felt myself changing during the end of our relationship. I had started to spend a lot of time reflecting on how easily time had gone by. At the beginning, I was sure that by now, we would be exclusive, committed and genuinely happy if I “let him get it out his system,” but nothing had changed. If anything, it had gotten worse because I had let him get comfortable hurting me. I was hurt and humiliated, and honestly ashamed of myself. I was so bitter. I had restricted myself to this dark place where I was being catered to materialistically and physically, but still feeling empty because I was not being emotionally, mentally or spiritually taken care of. So we’re over. Just typing this hurts like hell and I can’t wait to get to a place where I’m able to actually say “I’m over him. I’m okay now.” Despite the heartache, we were really good friends. He was there for me when I needed him and I was there for him as well. He understood me better than most people and I believe I understood him too. He just wasn’t ready to be faithful and because neither of us wanted to let go, God pushed us to a point where it was harder for us to stay together than to just be apart. I’m missing the hell out of him already and I do wish things could’ve turned out differently. But I know that time heals all wounds. Readers, if after reading this, you’ve realized that you might be in a situationship, trust me. You’re not alone. Understand that your mental, emotional and spiritual wellbeing is much more important than any relationship you think you want to be in. When you find someone who’s really worth your time, you won’t have to force or manipulate the situation to get results. If you find yourself thinking “Maybe if I act like this, dress like this, do more of this, do less of that, lose weight, gain weight, etc., he’ll love me more” GET OUT. That is extremely toxic thinking and it’ll result in nothing but more insecurities. A man who really wants to be with you will motivate you to be the best version of yourself because he wants to see you happy, not because he is trying to change you to fit HIS liking. Invest that same energy in SELF love, because all else will fall into place. You need to love yourself so much that any man who wants to get near you will know right away that he has no other choice BUT to come correct! Don’t make walking away harder than it needs to be. Don’t wait until he leaves you for someone else, or until he brings home an STD (especially something you can’t get rid of), or until he gets you pregnant! You’ll be wondering why you didn’t just leave when you first started having doubts. DON’T SIGN YOUR LIFE AWAY TO ANY MAN. Period. (And vice versa. Men get emotionally manipulated too) Guys, if you’re reading, don’t subject the women in your life to the pain of a situationship. Just be honest and upfront about what you want from the start, even before sex is involved. Let her decide whether she wants to deal with that. Don’t make the decision for her. And most importantly, if y’all aren’t on the same page, just have the courage to end it. Trust me, she won’t want to. But you’ll know it has to be done. Don’t get me wrong, ladies. I know men don’t hurt us on purpose. We’re all human, and we’re all figuring it out. Especially us young people. So with that being said, whether you’re a woman or a man, whether you’re in a situationship, relationship or married, whether you’re heterosexual or homosexual, never EVER put your happiness in another person’s hands. When it becomes too much for them to bear, you’re the one who ends up hurt. Instead of hating them, make sure you can look in the mirror and be happy with the person looking back at you, nobody else. Thank you for letting me share my thoughts and feelings with y’all. My posts won’t always be this long, but I had a lot on my mind and heart, and y’all can’t even imagine how good it feels to know that there are people out there willing to listen and learn from my experiences. I’ll definitely be more consistent with my future posts as well- at least once a week. Also, I’ll be including “song of the week” at the end of every post to reflect the intended theme. Nothing gets a point across like a song :) Here’s to growth, healing and self-love! Till next time

LOST

ANONYMOUS

Never been lost before. 
Always knew where I belonged and who I belonged to. 
But I feel lost today. 
I don’t know where I belong. 
In the place I always knew with the people that turned their backs when I wanted them most. 
In the place where I wanted to build a home and I destroyed it as I went, chipping away at any piece of love I could grasp. 
In no place with no people and just silence. In a place where no one knows my name and no one wants to. 
Which makes more sense. My heart says one thing, my brain another and my emotions a third. 
One pushes me towards him the one I want and the one I need. 
One pushed to the backs that are turned against me. 
The other pushed to find my own way and to suffer in the process because some lessons in life are better experienced then told. 
Torn three ways but not torn at all. 
Because when the smoke clears and the dust settles I always wanna be with the one who shines the brightest. 
I never wanted this to happen and I never wanted it to go but I don’t seem to have a choice. I want to love you until the day I die. I will love you until my dying breathe. You will love me all the same but my actions have brought you pain. I don’t blame you for wanting to get away I would too and faster than you. 
I wasn’t a good girlfriend I wasn’t even a good friend. I am just lost

Quick Play on words, coming back for more and more.

Christina Spruill (call me Stina) //21//Richmond, VA

IG/screamm_stina
Twitter/thtshortystina
Tumblr/ ashortynamedstina.tumblr.com
Blog: http://ashortynamedstina.wordpress.com/

it’s something about her that makes you come back...for more of her
Maybe it’s her smile
Maybe it’s her charm. Maybe it’s deeper
Her, She’s different the way she moves it’s all just different
The way she believes in you without a speck of doubt. Different (you yearn more)
Her emotions like waves, overbearing emotional, passionate about everything even YOU
The love after the fights, her scream, her moan the arch her back makes before...
The flashbacks you yearn for just a piece of her
It’ something so innocent yet behind closed doors so…
It’s something about her so guarded, doubtful, so scared but again you will come back for more losing yourself in her ebony getting satisfaction, a fix, indulging in a craving that can only be served by her….
She’s rare. She’s dangerous…you will always WANT to come back for more

Again and Again.

Jae Kanella // 20// FL


I'll love this body
stretch marks and cellulite, it's all decoration for my skin. 
big hips to knock folks out with, not to "birth with" or "rock with". 
I'm a #bodypositive babe, through and through
self consciousness is not new. 
but in the era of our millennia, let's own this edge. 
radical love starts with radical pledge
I'll love this body
even when
it's hard to look in a mirror
and see beauty
on the other side
I'll love this body
even when
it's hard to place this feeling, 
of unease when I see
a different form of me
that doesn't match
what I see
I'll love this body
even when it's hard to
breathe
because I can't cry
away with salt drops
of acid from my eyes
to burn this wax figure into
a truer form
My realness is defined
by my pledge:
I'll love this body
again and again
even when
it's hard
to love it: 
again and again.

Polarity

Alexia Guzman // Monmouth County NJ // 19yrs old// 

IG: @dandy.lions_

Tumblr: thirteenshadesofdopamine.tumblr.com

i.

she was born hungry and the world instilled on her it was wrong.

she took first class with a teddy bear

held tightly in her hands

on a plane far away from the strangers

she called mom and dad.

she wasn't born with a silver spoon in hand,

but a monster in her head

created from the cheap shots of whiskey

a stoned brunette used to slap back on a sunday night.

 there isn't a rhyme or a reason

but sometimes the bottle has no ending,

from the twenty six year old at the bar

 to the little girl in the classroom asking for

 more, please.

teachers would bow their heads and

put the limit at one--

but while that little girl is

rolling down hills and picking flowers

 her mother doesn't know the meaning of

 "just one more".

 it's funny how we're connected with people--

from genetics to this false feeling

of needing to get better.

but for some people,

getting better means getting higher

and that only brings them down further.

so this little girl always wanted to go

up, up, up.

 while she's pumping herself higher on the swings

her mother's in the bathroom

doing the same goddamn thing.

until one day someone realized

 the sky isn't the limit

and it's better to be grounded;

but sometimes life decides to turn itself around

and suddenly you aren't grounded

but being pummeled

down down down

with this idea of perfection.

she wasn't a cookie cutter person,

more of a roller coaster ride

without direction.

you can blame it on the rehabs

 or the system

 or the stories

but in the end

i think it comes down to gravity.

 

ii.

i was walking on the borderline last night

and the thought kept plaguing my mind:

there are two sides to every story.

 i’m caught up in a cycle between day and night,

tossed between megalomania

and thinking maybe i’m a mistake

because i can’t feel a fucking thing.

but there’s beauty in the uncertainty

of feeling like a natural disaster.

i can appreciate the sting

of hitting rock bottom because i know

what it’s like to be among the clouds

without ever considering coming down.

waking up in the morning

makes me feel like sisyphus,

doomed to an eternity of repeating the futile.

i pry my eyelids open the same way

he pushes the boulder uphill.

i pray for stability,

to accept the things i cannot change

and the strength

 to change the things i cannot accept.

i’ve spent my life searching for serenity.

but when things are great

they’re too good to be true

and when the rock reaches the top

its right back to the start.

Untitled #4

 Hello beautiful people, my name's Nia Simone. I'm 21 years old and I'm from the good old Confederate capital Richmond, Virginia. I really adore what y'all are doing bring all of these beautiful minds together in one place, and I'd be honored to possibly be a part of it. The following is a poem that I wrote about a year ago, about someone that I used to deal with. It's strange how much creativity can come out of pain. I went through this period where I wasn't even bothered to title my shit because I was so upset. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Btw, my social media handles are @loveniasimone for Instagram and Twitter, and @niasimone for Tumblr. Much love. 

Untitled #4.

i. 
The track marks on my left arm resemble your first initial. 
My hands shake when I linger on the memory of you for too long.
This withdrawal is bittersweet. 
At least, when I hallucinate I can have you back beside me. 
Your hands are just as rough as I remember. 
Lips just as soft. 

ii.
We used to shoot up together. 
Strung out on a fatal combination of repressed love
laced with a fuck-ton of lust. 
I hated myself after we were done. 
But when our pillow talk made us bond over thinking about death a little too much, 
I knew I was in love. 

iii. 
I grew to crave every inch of you. 
From your widow's peak
To the wrinkles in the back
of your broad shoulders when you stretched, 
it all grabbed me by the throat. 
The transition from want to need
was quick and painful like a bee sting. 

iv.
It's easy for you to quit me. 
I get that. 
I don't come with withdrawal symptoms. 

v. 
Cold turkey is your middle name. 
That's how you quit smoking weed, 
40s, and slow fucking. 
You yearned for detachment. 
I was too sticky. 

vi. 
The last time you told me you loved me
my heart sunk into my empty stomach
and twisted my intestines into a bow. 
You said you were giving me a present by leaving me. 
But it did not feel like Christmas. 
More like the last meal before my execution. 

vii. 
I like my tears silent.
I realized I cannot live off of what-ifs
and ghosts that tend to visit in the night. 
So when my thoughts linger I snap a rubber band against my wrist. 
My hands calm down.
I am training myself to numb you out.