I'm in the shower and I start thinking to myself, 'If only I could wash the problems from my life the way I wash dirt from my skin'. Could I possibly efface the trauma in my soul, deep within? I don't know where to begin. Maybe I should start by loving myself. Stop trying to please the guy or girl who can't love me, the family who for some reason thinks they're above me and learn to recognize my value; I am a queen the likes of which no one has ever seen, a diamond in the rough ready to polished so that I gleam.
I don't feel the spark of joy I once felt with you.
I hadn't talked to my aunt in ages.
"I met the #love of my #life once..." @ a bus stop on Brock holding my swollen cheek, hurting from impacted wisdom teeth.
They treat me, literally, like a battered bruised cat or dog at the SPCA, torn
Buddy was headed to Nova Scotia to find a way back home: a state of