sometimes, i see little glitches, of the girl i used to be. when im writing, or listening to a particular genre of music, or maybe in a moment, captured in a photograph. i see small parts of the girl i once was. i’m not sure what happened to her… life i suppose. i liked her, and i do wish she could come back and take me over. too much has happened since then, but i’ll still carry her spirit with me, where ever i go, and in whatever i do.
it was great, and i had a lovely time tonight.
there was an event held on campus today, and it was focused towards violence against woman of colour and trans woman (and trans women of colour of course). I wanted to be there, i wanted to show my support, but i struggled in my chair majority of the night.
their words hit me so hard, and i felt myself biting my bottom lip and and squirming in my chair. I tried my best to sit still as i listened to poem after poem about rape, violence, and sexism.
listening to all of these stories and shared experiences, began to brew a distasteful taste in my mouth, and a frenzy of one liners in my brain. i felt their strength push through the words they spoke, and I couldn’t imagine how naked they must feel, exposed, and vulnerable. I wanted to have the courage to get up there and reveal myself, but i am a coward, and each time i fall silent.
perhaps one day, i’ll share my story.
And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss him so much
you don’t know what to do with your hands.