third world democracy

i don’t want to be toxic. i’m so scared i am.

the man puts his two hands on my hips says this is my favorite part of a woman and i think of this curse. the curse of having this body. this cinnamon skin. the kind that attracts the men who leave           (scars) the kind that is subject to being too much but never enough the kind of body that knows how to give hips wide enough to birth a motherland that follow the same shape as my mother and her mother  the kind of brownness that is charming         soft and pretty         and quiet but i want to be kerosene. i want to be unbearable. i want to tell him don’t love me don’t love me don’t love me because i know who i become, become too soft become the girl who gives until she is nothing the women in my blood  know how to feed a village, how to taste the dishonesty             the constant nervousness of our husbands   like the cigarette smoke that lingers in our houses i am not ready to heal the absence of another heart not ready to reconcile this body with a man’s poor love not ready to have my heart be a home to anyone but      myself. but when he comes, hands softer than those before him,  he calls me beautiful // asmaraneya // brown-skinned girl and they are all synonymous. he is summer monsoon and i am brown skin, rejecting rain until i am satiated with my solitude.

u ever feel so sad ur heart hurts

I low key wish I was pretty. Like really pretty. Like gorgeous. The kind of good looks that have everyone wanting to know who you are and where you came from and wondering how you ended up in the same space as them.

I pray that inshallah this ramadan heals all our wounds

someone: speaks louder than normal with a slightly aggressive tone me: here come the tears

Stop forcing yourself to preserve dying friendships. It’s not worth it, you know the vibe is off.

Needed this

Same

please god protect me from ever getting married to some secretly misogynistic immature piece of shit

I promise you, things change. The person you are right now will not be the person you are in a year from now. Although this may be scary, sometimes its a blessing looking back. Things change.

i want to get better! i really do! i’m trying!