waitingforforever.

My eyes don’t light up when I hear your name anymore. I don’t get chills when you walk by and my heart doesn’t race when you smile my way. You don’t get to me like you used to. Looks like you lost me.

“he dragged me through hell but as long as he was holding my hand, i called it love”

Some days I do not think of you but other days I do Some days the sound of your name will roll off my tongue but other days I cannot hear your name without tears surfacing my eyes Some days my logic replaces my emotion but other days my heart wins I do still love you I think I always will

i look at you, and there’s no question to the fact that i still love you.

It just really sucks because I still care. I still want to fix things and I still want you. I want us. I still need closure. I still need you to say something.

I still love you, but I… But I’m not happy.

“because a 16 year old girl who had her first orgasm whilst getting raped, had to watch her 34 year old rapist go free because she had an orgasm.

And the way I see it We all are different. Some of us are grey; we walk grey, we talk grey, we see grey. Some of us are yellow; we live everything yellow. Grey people can’t do yellow, they try to be yellow but something is always grey and sometimes they aren’t allowed to feel yellow for long. Sadly, yellow is happy and grey? Grey is empty.

When I say women aren’t safe, I mean every time I am alone with a male my skin crawls. If he looks at me a second longer than expected, I shiver. I can not and will not make eye contact because I’m terrified to know if he is looking back. If he makes any sudden movement I go through the process in my mind - a key hidden in my fist, hands trembling. When he finally leaves, the pounding in my chest slows. When I say women aren’t safe, I mean walking down the street, all senses are heightened because you have to be cautious of those alley ways, of the man sitting at that table, of that man in his truck. When he yells at you, your whole body tenses. You’ll rush into the nearest store but sometimes there’s no stores around to use. So you keep walking. Pretending nothings wrong. Pretending you aren’t nauseated. You can’t wear that dress now because every time you put it on it reminds you of him, and you fear it’ll happen again. When I say women aren’t safe, I mean we are taught to be well behaved - don’t speak up. We are taught to be fragile, and men are superior. We are taught to be sex objects. As if our worth is measured by our bra size. When I say women aren’t safe, I mean there are teenage girls starving themselves so they will look like that model on Vogue magazine. These beauty standards are overwhelming. There are teenage girls crying, wondering why they aren’t represented in any of the media. They start to hate all that they are because society shames us for not being their version of “ideal.” When I say women aren’t safe, I mean that this panic we live with each day (simply for being a woman) will not go away. Its something we must deal with everywhere we go.

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