SPEAKING MY TRUTH THROUGH THE WRITTEN WORD
I cannot stop hating my body. Fuck, how I want to be That proud, free, careless woman Showing it all without a thought Never apologizing for my skin My rolls, my lines, my folds And I’m not. I’m not there. And I want to love myself for that too To embrace and give kindness The... Continue Reading →
Sometimes I wonder who I'm trying to reach when I write. Myself? People like myself? Someone to validate my existence and tell me I'm good enough to carry on? I'm not sure I have any idea. All I know is that I feel driven to share what moves through me, in whatever way I can.... Continue Reading →
I’m raging out of my skin Jumpy, electric nonsense, and yet Convulsing with unwanted sobs Holding, suppressing, denying The impotence that scares me more Than any tangible threat. My belly clenches up, bracing Attempting feeble containment Of the demon churning deep within. She demands compensation, flesh Payment for that which was ripped away A child’s... Continue Reading →
Look at me So even-tempered these days Fearful that my inner peace Might poach my creativity But is that such a blemish If I remain alive To feel the breeze on my skin For another cycle? Creativity need not be born From despair. I eschew that tired narrative. That stereotypical trope. What good are creative... Continue Reading →
Pale and withdrawn Afraid to be seen Like an invalid Lost to the light for years Now shuddering in the sun. In love with the journey But obstinately, firmly shut off To any dalliances along the way. Tell me, how else should it be? How else can it be? Hiding from revelation Is the only... Continue Reading →
AMY HORTON 