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Lost. For the Most Part

I’m tired of..

So many things.

Crying over a man who left me broken, & lost.

Having panic attacks over leaving high school, leaving all that I’ve known. 

Becoming lost.


Or being. Is that right? Oh, fiddlesticks! I don’t know.

Lost. 

In a murky mind bog,

A wounded heart,

A shattered sense of reality,

& a wibbly-wobbly sense of self.

I’m tired. 

-Of being called a virgin whore.

-Of being ashamed of loving pain.

-Of loving pain, (the emotional kind) because I feel like this is what I deserve.

-Of knowing that I do deserve more; I really do! But I always go back.

-Of holding onto to this anchor guilt. (But at least it keeps me rooted?)

-Of dreaming of his face, his touch, his love.

-Of waking up, tears streaming down my face.

-Of dreading sleep. All it brings is pain, not relief. 

-Of wanting to die, & live again.

-Of being that girl. You know the one. So desperate for attention, so desperate to be loved. Yeah. That’s me.

-Of being called a drama queen. An attention seeker.

I’m so tired of it all. 

Oh darling, do not fret.

I’m not so tired to stop.

"

I don’t want to be a feminist anymore. Like a five-year-old, I want to close my eyes, stick my fingers in my ears, stomp my feet on the floor and scream “No! No, you cannot make me, I won’t, leave me alone!” I am, simply put, too tired. So very, very tired.

I am tired of fighting with my friends. I am tired of arguing that someone groping and slapping my butt isn’t “what I have to expect”, just because I’m at a bar, and the one attacking my butt has a drink in the other hand. I am tired of hearing “boys will be boys” and “when you’re dressed like that …” and “that’s just what guys do”. I am tired of trying to drown those sentiments in loud, repetitive no’s, screamed over and over again, till my throat is sore and my voice weak – just to hear them repeated, as soon as exhaustion threatens to silence me.

I am tired of being afraid. I am tired of seeing someone writing something offensive, sexist, racist, ageist, ableist, somewhere online. I am tired of seeing those writings getting likes and lol’s, and SO TRUE’s. I am tired of being consumed by confusion and anger, typing, typing, typing and typing a seemingly endless response, including research, links and statistics, and then hesitate clicking “submit”. I am tired of knowing that I hesitate because I am afraid of the flood of responses that will come. I am tired of knowing that I will be bombarded with lighten up’s, stop whining’s and get a sense of humor’s for so long, that I will start to wonder if I am indeed wound up too tight, a nagger and humorless. I am tired of the fact that I’m afraid of being called a cunt, even though I don’t find genitalia insulting or demeaning.

"
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I don’t want to be a feminist anymore. (via gingerrqueer)

Read the rest of this article - it’s perfect.

(via provoice)

pretty in pink.

owlmylove:

When I was 10, I saw

my first episode of Law & Order, SVU

a woman screamed

and her pretty pink dress ripped

the scene cut to black but then

she sat in a station

hair mussed and mascara running

and she seemed broken

and empty

and that’s when I began to prepare

for the inevitable.

Read More

newpope:

damn gurl you know your way around brass instruments…im getting a tromboner