The pills tasted better when she pretended they were M&Ms as she popped them into her mouth.

They tasted even better when the sound of the compacted powder being crushed by strong teeth resonated in her ears.

They tasted even better as she closed her eyes and the world began to fade out of view until it was nothing but a blur. No people. No noise. No pain. No loss.

This was her reality.



I lay in my bed with my eyes shut in the fear that if I open them I’ll realise that this was all a dream… that you were never here and you were never mine.

And I cannot bear not to have you in my bed so I shut my eyes tighter and I dream a little while longer… just a little while longer.


The ghosts of our memories lingered around me like the echoes of my regrets.

Silence engulfed me as I sunk deeper into a pool of my endless desire to embrace you.

But the ghost of your memory haunts me daily and reminds me that we’re nothing but torn puzzle pieces that do not fit.


Pause. I really need an applause.

I refuse to lay down and open my legs for a man who doesn’t love me. I refuse to go on my knees or bend over for a man who’ll never wife me.

I refuse to let hands – hands that have felt so many before me – touch my naked body. I refuse to be known so intimately by just anybody.

Oh, so my standards make me old fashioned? What’s that? I should fall in line with my generation? 

Oh, so I’m stuck up and think I’m better than everyone? Careful, there. You’re starting to sound like the bitter one.

Just because everyone is doing it does not mean I have to. I know my worth and maybe you should too.

Just A Girl

I am just a girl.

And I have a name. I have an identity. I don’t belong to anybody, not even to myself. I do not have to open my legs for no man. I do not have to succumb to society’s beauty standards to feel beautiful.

I am just a girl.
And I refuse to be labelled. I refuse to be defined by quotes. I refuse to be a trophy. I refuse to be inferior.

I am just a girl.
I am not less than a man. I am not more than a man. I do not have to drink like a man. I do not have to smoke like a man. I do not have to walk like a man. But we remain equals.

I am just a girl.
And I’m trying to be happy in a world that has long since forgotten what happiness feels like. So Fuck you if I seem obnoxious. Nobody cares what you think anyways.


“Love is a hoax.” she said as she took a sip of water from the wine glass she was holding.

Lulling music played in the background like a distant hum. Yes, she was in a bar. Yes, she was drinking water from a wine glass. Yes, she was rejecting drinks from anyone who bothered to offer them. Yes, she was all dressed up. Yes, her dress was a little too short. Yes, she was there alone. Yes, she was dancing atop the counter like she was getting paid. Yes, she got disapproving looks from the women there.

But that was her beauty. She didn’t need alcohol, or drugs, or love. She didn’t need people’s approval. She had herself, and that was enough.


“Men are a dreadful bore.” My sister, Ellie, used to say. She spent most of her good years attending luxurious balls, drinking herself half to death and smoking her beautifully carved pipe. Ma told me to stay away from her. She was a disgrace to our family.

“Men will waltz into your life.” She told me. “They will utter sweet nothings. They will make you drink the elixir of love. But don’t be fooled, little sister. They tire quickly. Soon you will be nothing but a memory.”

And when I frowned she took my face into her hands and kissed my cheeks. “No man can love you more than Ma. No man can love you more than I do. Do not stay long enough for your heart to break. Think of men as toys. When one breaks or displays a flaw, go get you a new one. The way they play with us, is the same way we’ll play with them. Don’t ever forget this.”

And I never did.

Star Whisperer

I look to the stars for answers, but they remain silent still. 

Unspoken words drift from them and should take light years ro reach me but I recieve them within seconds.

You should hear what’s hidden in the twinkling. Perhaps then you’d understand.

“Understand what?” you ask.

I don’t know. Maybe you should ask the stars.


Hands have touched her before. Hands that didn’t belong to the man she loved. Hands that were rough. Hands that were careless. Hands that were cold. Hands that left bruises on her body.

Hands have touched her before. Hands that forced up her skirt. Hands that forced her legs open. Hands that tore her shirt and grabbed her breasts. Hands that enclosed her throat. Hands that covered her mouth to muffle her screams.

Hands have touched her before. Hands that made her feel dirty. Hands that made her feel less of a person. Hands that took away her innocence. Hands that destroyed her.


Everything that a man touches, he destroys.

Do not let him touch your heart, and do not let him touch your mind. Do not let him touch your body, and do not let him touch your soul.

Do not let him kiss you to taste the desperation on your lips. He could never provide the love your father failed to give. Do not let him undress you to get a glimmer of the galaxies in your being. All beautiful things must remain hidden.

No man deserves such luxuries. No man deserves you.