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 →
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 →
I am wild, I scream Baring my teeth To the unsuspecting trespassers Turning against the well-meant kindness The innocent mothering Making my stomach roil with repulsion I cannot be controlled Forced, or willed to be A fucking thing I am not As soon as you all stop trying The sooner you learn The better off... Continue Reading →
Fresh blood Pumping Unbridled Unleashed What is the fear? Pain? Pain is merely a perception A perspective A place that feels like home. Time to choose New ways to transform What's familiar Into what's transcendent. We choose the suffering we know Over the possibility of bliss Because the suffering is certain. Fucked up, but undeniable.... Continue Reading →
I thought I loved from the depth of my bones But I only loved the concept, my idea of what I thought a lover should/would/could be. My passion is hollow. Perhaps I’ve never felt anything but a Dream. Lie. Construct. Skin-deep, afraid to dive in Such a talker, not so much a communicator though. I... Continue Reading →
AMY HORTON 