How do you use your body to block itself
Shield your stomach with your own arms
Left hand over chest
Right hand over breast
It hurts to contort myself in these ways
I’m so tired of twisting and bending to avoid the gaze
I want to feel free to show myself


On Darkness

Image result for darkness I have always considered myself to be a dark person for a myriad of reasons. Growing up my favorite shows were Courage The Cowardly Dog, Are You Afraid of The Dark, Beyond Belief Fact or Fiction? I loved Jumanji and Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory for their spooky whimsicality. Whether it was spooky stories, haunting music, or scary movies; if it was macabre I was into it.  Overall I just have always enjoyed the feeling of being scared.  I’ve never been ashamed of this, and why would I? I’ve had an affinity for dark colors, bleak days, and eerie music as long as I can remember and consider it to be a quirk of mine.  We all have those, right? Some people enjoy bright colors, bright days, and poppy tunes, and don’t get me wrong I love those things too, but in the back of my mind, I’ve always preferred the dark.


While I appreciated my quirk for what it was what I found more difficult to embrace was my emotional darkness.  I remember once talking to a friend on the phone and telling him I was afraid to share anything dark or heavy with people and he tried to assure me healthy friendships allow for sharing and support.  Four years later and I consider that a lesson I still have not learned.  I mentioned liking dark things, but I am not sure others pick up on that.  I think I often present as the cheery, bright, colored, bright day person I mentioned earlier. I work very hard to keep my dark parts to myself.  I like to take care of other people and I’ve often felt being dark with them would obfuscate that.  So I don’t. img_8955  Now, now you may be lecturing me about how this doesn’t seem like a very healthy way to be, and you’d be right.  It’s not.  Not by a long shot,  My inability to communicate pain with others has stunted me in many ways, not only this, it has seeped out into other aspects of my life.  I find it difficult to even think about bringing my pain to other people, even here on my own blog I struggle sharing my darker writing because I know people can read it. The truth is I am scared; of what, you ask? Well; of judgment, vulnerability, exposure, of lots of things really.  When I  sit and think about it I come to understand much of my life has been characterized by fear.  But fear doesn’t serve me, so why not let it go? Much of my own art asks me to let go of the fear that I’ve held onto.  I consider this blog to be a piece of art and a piece of myself as well, so I want to take the time to hold space for myself and invite myself to embrace fear.  Your role in this is just as important as my own, you are the witness.  I think often about visibility and what it means to see others, I think seeing people is a very radical thing we so often we find ourselves hidden or erased.  Thank you for being here, thank you for receiving me.  This is a beginning as well as an end, I’m going to give myself permission to be scared, to be scary, and to be more authentic; without further ado….


This spear you’ve shot me with

Penetrates to the deepest parts of me

I don’t take that lightly

Disembowl me

Gut me

Leave me bleeding

Expose me here on this floor

For all the world to see

All this world is a stage

And we are merely playing


What’s in a lie?

He says his girlfriend gets “too wet”

“That’s a lot” he says

“There’s just so much of it”

And honestly I am confused? Because…isn’t that the point? Like…for her to be…you know…there? I mean maybe it’s because I never really get all that wet, or maybe because sometimes when I’m in class, or riding the subway, or dozing off- I imagine there’s a woman.  And when I imagine she’s there I imagine she’s about to straddle my face. And I like that.  I mean I never really imagine she’s particularly wet, that is to say I never really imagine her wetness in particular.  So I like start to think about this imaginary woman, the one dropping down onto my face, like hovering over me, but getting closer …only now she’s dripping on me, and that’s cool.  I’m thinking about how wet she is, “wow this bitch is wet I think” but it’s not putting me off, it’s not necessarily putting me on, but it’s not putting me off.

Like maybe I’m proud, this bitch is like drooling just for me to taste her.  So she’s drooling and I’m drooling- we’re both drooling. But it’s different because I’m drooling from the mouth and she’s drooling from the pussy.  That’s all wetness is really, drooling from the pussy.

Anyway. So like we’re both drooling in anticipation and now I’m wondering how long it’s gonna take her to really sit on my face.  How long has she been hovering? What’s taking so long? How has she been lowering all this time? How strong are her thighs exactly? What’s her workout routine like? Where’s her gym? What is she gonna taste like? What’s my pussy doing right now?

But she’s still lowering.

Maybe she’ll never really get there, maybe this is like one of those hallway dream sequences where you run and run but never get any closer.  So maybe mystery woman will just squat over my face dripping into my eyes.  You think I’ll go blind? Should I ask Siri? Siri- Can vaginal wetness- Wait…am I supposed to stick my tongue out? Like when you catch snowflakes in a storm?


I get up off my knees and he asks me if I came

He pushes inside me and asks me if it hurts

Flat tongue poking too far from my clit – Does it feel good?

Staccato thrusts too deep and too stiff- Do you like that?

Yes! Baby!

Oh my god! You’re so big!

Mmmmm! Yes! Right there!

An exaggerated moan

A well timed shudder

An enthusiastic plea

I am so tired of men who cannot please me

Nearly as good as I can please myself

DC is a place of transience 

People bring their spirits

And those spirits bring their spirits 

Soon the room is crowded 

No not crowded, full 

The room is just too small 

We need to push back the walls 

Make room for all of our selves 

Let our souls breathe 

We can all dance

We can all sing

There is room for all of us here 

This table gets bigger 

I swear there is room

There is 

There is