insp blog

she carries the bags under her eyes like the weight can only be hers belly swollen like a globe soon to become her world she looks at you as if you’re gold and sometimes you forget to look back her voice is rich like the honey she stirs in your tea when you can’t fall asleep and who would be so quick to sacrifice their happiness for yours mother, i wish i could heal every crack every wound grazed against your skin mother, i wish i could give you even half of all you’ve given me, let you laugh and live and smile like the goodness you’ve poured out of yourself just to see me do the same.”

You care and it’s all over the place.

how to be a monster: 1. learn the taste of dirt and pain. 2. teach it to others till your knuckles bleed. 3. see if that makes it easier to breathe.

her teeth were sharpened into daggers, tearing flesh of the inhumane, devouring the sun with a smack of her mouth. gentle did not exist in her vocabulary. it was cheating, cheating, cheating. all edge and no silk. nails pointed and bloodstained. black, blue, purple bruises littering her skin like a constellation of stars, bursting from the seams with scraped knuckles, ragged jeans, a gaze that could kill thousands. she was a monster, that girl, she took it by the throat and she ran with it, etching her into a cutting piece of human form, in love with the objective of freedom.

We do this because the world we live in is a house on fire and the people we love are burning.

She was a fighter. She really was. I’ve watched people tear her down, and then ask for her help. And she would help them. She would spend hours helping them. I’ve always admired and hated that part of her.