On your mark…

  Fuck off my beat Fuck off my rhythm Don’t steal it from me Try, vetting your own, go ahead bounce to that fro to be for me Underlapped, stabbing at edges, dat rhythm, get dat beat! Where’s the one? I’ll hold it in my thin hands I’m a holder Holder of tongues Of bong … More On your mark…

Iron Veins, trying towards life.

There wasn’t rest for me, I lived in a prisons coated in scintillating hallow praise.
It all hurt(s). All of it.
These are the scar along my being, just not the core, scars do not equal a being.
An extension of human experience so ugly and unfathomable it is easier to try and discredit.
Often, this happens. People are disqualified from life, humanity, and protection there in because them coping with their pain isn’t Lifetime materials.
Where’s that sunny disposition?
Discredit a life unknown, ugly cries to be ignored and devalued in hindsight.
It’s annoying. … More Iron Veins, trying towards life.

Writing down despair, Musings from Mental Illnesses. March 7th, 2017.

“Sometimes just being, working towards life. That enough. I wouldn’t be mocked for unraveled expectations incompatible with my reality.”
“I don’t have to convince anyone of the ribbons lynched around my veins.

I can’t stop you from seeing my body fettle by pain, by invisible burdens.

The voice, my voice is not easily harnessed.”

Time stops and stutters to taunt me.
I’ll use my energy when I see fit.
I’m not here to convince you of my pain.

I’m here to live through it.”

More Writing down despair, Musings from Mental Illnesses. March 7th, 2017.