23. poet. mama. survivor. ex junkie.
lover of too much. feeler of everything.
Actually, I lied. I do not want this reborn, softer version of myself. I have done so much to make myself more digestible, acceptable, palatable, normal ?
By Trinity Noelle7 months ago in Poets
I have never known peace but when I meet her, I will introduce myself hands trembling, voice soft, like I am finally arriving home
By Trinity Noelle8 months ago in Poets
They told me that I have Body dysmorphia That I’m not truly the terrifying Alien being That my brain has convinced me that
This was a new kind of hurt Not constant or regular The kind that swooped in and out Embezzled the air from my lungs The kind of hurt that came in ripples
I was a whore long before I ever learned the meaning of the word The dirty title I was endowed with As long as I can remember I have worn that ball and chain
How can I love a body that has left me behind? I resent the flesh that clings to my bones I want to set fires, watch it burn, claw it off,
I do not remember what it felt like to die I do not know blurred edges of my life Shrinking into a pinpoint Becoming nothing at all
