Why me?

Stop telling girls they have to be super heroes and not princesses. Stop telling girls that wanting to be a mother or a homemaker isn’t a real job. Stop telling girls that makeup isn’t art. Stop making fun of girls who like being in a relationship and looking for love.  STOP telling girls that femininity is bad. I thought being a feminist and being a woman’s rights activist was about giving women the freedom to choose. Stop the internalized misogyny. 

I just want someone to love me as much as I love them for once in my goddamn life please

the sheets are too scratchy and they dont smell like you anymore i guess they’ve moved on - i wish i could say the same.  your fingerprints still painted on my thighs,  i don’t know how to wash you away.  i dont know if i want to wash you away.  im rocking back and forth and time has become a feeling,  time is heavy, it weighs me down and sinks in.  it holds me and i am trapped - 1 year in the grand scheme of things is a simple sigh.  1 year with you was enough to wake me up,  bring me to life, show me how it felt to fall asleep with a quiet mind, because you  were besides me. it was long enough that your name will always make my ears perk up. long enough  for you to teach me how to love someone who doesnt love me back. i cant explain this and as a poet thats supposed to be my job,  but whatever this was was something  like honey, golden, sweet, a slight zing,  you were golden in the mornings whne we both awoke right before dawn, when the summers day caught up to you and it became a summers night, the way the sunsets hues  would dance off of the river. you were sweet  like soft serve ice cream, like how it feels to  see the first flower in spring, a red tulip. You were sweet and to the point and maybe that had a lot to do with it,  you were zing-y, you had fire in your soul. telling me how it was, a slight hint of sarcasm to your tone keeping me on my toes,  for months and months because i ridiculously thought and prayed  it would all lead to you falling into my arms - instead it became rocky as if we were on a ship at sea,  no more smooth sailing, you and i could’ve put the titanic to shame.  that was 2017 and its been a whole year now but look at who i still write about till my fingers ache. my friends tell me i do not make sense, tell me to forget, but they don’t know how your hand felt in mine, your thighs pressed around me, like a life vest.  i used to scream for you to hear my words, my pain  you never did respond so now i sit in silence and dream of how it felt last summer when my sheets were warm from you, when i was warm from you.  now i sit here and i write on this blog that no one will care about i write here instead of texting because i dont feel like being ignored i prefer to skip small talk but you prefer to skip me.  its 2018 and i am here writing of you and my bed doesnt smell like you anymore but if i close my eyes i can almost remember  almost

I fell for you, and you didn’t fall for me. It’s as simple as that. But my heart doesn’t know how to accept this. She just doesn’t.

honestly all i want is for rick to write a book about all his characters, chlling and happy and meeting each other and talking about their crazy adventures, with no monsters or fights or any of that stuff