©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse
Bio
Hi! I'm "That Girl Muse," author, artist, muse, poet, surrealist and spirit guide, who uses creativity as a means to heal the mind. Each poem's a lil' bit of Inure Muse's story @Find_the_muse & support my work. You can also book me online!
Stories (112/0)
I guess,
I guess, in a way, it was easier to make me feel like I didn't exist inside. That in some way, it was more efficient to break down emotionally and hide behind trauma and rage. More comfortable to break my spirit and tell me I'm a whore (and worthless) to my face. And, in the same breath, expect my heart to embrace your word-like razor blades.
By ©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse4 years ago in Poets
The art of living well...
I haven't figured out the art of living. I thought, at one point in time, it was about loving each other, helping humankind, as a whole, out of this worldwide bind and striving as a collective to obtain a higher form of living: as unified humankind.
By ©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse4 years ago in Poets
Guess what
I get how your feeling. There’s nothing fun about this thing called healing. There have been times where our emotions ran high and words may have gotten rather revealing. But, I hope you can see past our occasional flaws, my love because we’re healing.
By ©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse4 years ago in Poets
Immune
Honestly... I'm not immune to the sharp, verbal swords driven through the thin, skin of my now bleeding heart. Though I may like it rough, during sex, granted, but not when we're trying to talk. For real, there's absolutely nothing Fifty Shades of Grey about being verbally ripped and torn apart.
By ©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse4 years ago in Poets
I hate myself sometimes
I hate myself sometimes, well, to be honest, most times. I despise the way I say what I feel; instead of think before I relay. I fucking loathe how my condition makes me feel this way. I spew hurtful things when I can't efficiently manage my emotions in a better way. Ergo, they end up saying to me, precisely what they think of me. Articulated with Spartan-like force in the most Achillean of tones, which cut so deeply, I felt the blood from the wound sting down to my bones.
By ©I.M. "That Girl," Inure Muse4 years ago in Poets