People are more comfortable when you live a life similar to their own, but we weren’t put here to make others feel more comfortable. Live loud make em squirm.
Tag Archives: love
Seasons
I sank into a picture perfect fantasy But now, The memories are flooding back The habitual reminders Of why I stopped fighting Why I slowly loosened my grip Why I let go I clinched my empty fists And off went the leaf from my branch It descended in a less elegant manor than I sawContinue reading “Seasons”
Their Togetherness
Their togetherness relies on their a push to love awkwardly It relies on sex and fear Silence and distance Those things push them together It doesn’t rely solely on her Or solely on him Not even rules or religion It’s the bad little things That make them Them -Saschia
Heirloom
My necklace swings as I bend over to plant some seeds It swings again when I clean someone’s muddy tracks off the floor I kinda wanna take it off but it was from my grandmother.
Glass Jar
Give me a sledge hammer So I can break free From this glass jar -Saschia
Ruined
The makeup drips down her face Black tears There’s more to all this She knows it She feels it in her bones Even though it was wrong She knows that too But there was this push much stronger than before An urge she’s never felt She wasn’t herself or was she Is this what beingContinue reading “Ruined”
The Point
The only point of everything is love Whether it’s not enough Not reciprocated Or whether it’s pure with no agenda Love is the point – Saschia
Second Guessing
I made this decision To stick it out To see how things go And feel it out We all make mistakes Right Right?! Seventy x seven Right? My left side aches My bones quiver In anxiety in fear in excitement I am brave I am beautiful I am enough I am tired of being strongContinue reading “Second Guessing”
Day Dreamer
Hand in hand Flames nip at my sweater queen of myself Heart stitched to my sleeve I crave an empty belly but a full mind -Saschia
My Pet
I lift my shirt And watch their animalistic features Twist and turn While I lust a long day With a pile of books The misfit kind That are discarded Assumed to finger madness Only it’s those books that speak The music of my ancestors ♡Saschia
Jayne.press 