I’m anxious.

I write this in a state of anxiety. Not quite a full-blown anxiety attack, but more of a well, low-key anxiety attack. **** I'm a senior in high school. I'm ready to graduate and jet off to college. I'm over the rumors, the whispers in the hallway, the looks. I'm over the way I morphed … Continue reading I’m anxious.

When you go balls deep

I'm moving to California, ma! I was so certain of my future before it even began. Senior year of college I spent hours at my laptop researching jobs out on the west coast. I dreamt of grazing the warm sand with my hands and touching the Pacific coast with my bare feet. Lips pursed against … Continue reading When you go balls deep

I am a storyteller.

I am a storyteller.  “What’s up with a pretty girl like you being single?” he asked in a drunken slur. “Umm, idk! You know men these days!” I replied four vodka sodas deep, “just not ready for a boyfriend I suppose.” After a brief make out sesh at the bar before I realized I wasn’t … Continue reading I am a storyteller.

Blended thoughts on a burnt relationship.

I hope that you exercise human compassion and become an advocate for women some day. I hope you stop referring to women as "bitches" and "cunts" for having an opinion. That someday you believe that women are not below you and you use your intelligence towards making a positive difference in this world.

Words.

The blind in the middle window of my bedroom is broken. I should get it fixed, but I enjoy Mother Nature as an alarm clock. You cannot hit snooze on the sun. I've tried. Mother Naure is relentless. I am relentless. The sun woke me that morning, the same way it always does. I looked … Continue reading Words.

I was intoxicated.

I woke up in the passenger seat and his hand was down my shirt, cupping my breast. He moved his hand around the inside of my shirt, repeatedly feeling me up for several seconds at a time. I asked him to stop, politely. He asked me for money that I didn't have. I apologized, then asked … Continue reading I was intoxicated.