Hot summer mornings are illuminated by the flowing embers of our Goddess, Sun. We giggle with the warm caress of her embracing our bodies with the familiarity of a lover. No wonder Icarus could not stay away from you, burning is nothing compared to the pain of being absent from your warmth.

Lover, never leave me. I long to feel the pain that you bring. Burn me until I am nothing but charred embers illuminating your sunrise and ashes signaling your departure.

I. Am. Yours.



“Hey girl, low key really like this boy.”

“No girl, we all know that’s high key.”

But what does low key and high key actually mean?

Key as in music? Key as in specifically piano. Notes so low that add a richness but are easily forgotten or notes so high that grab our attention and scream in our faces until we’re forced to turn around and face it?

But when I say low key I just don’t want to bring attention to how high key I really feel. I don’t want to call attention by using high keywords but in the end I can’t help but feel and express high key feelings

Low key don’t want to act out being a sexual assault victim when low key it wouldn’t even be acting.

low key lost my keys and locked myself out of my room because of the before mentioned low key roll

low key drowning because the stress and anxiety of doing this is eating away all the good parts of me, letting the darkness take control over my body until I can’t function and am low key getting physically ill.

I actually high key love my job but low key cannot handle the deep,dark parts that are forcing themselves to the surface, breaking through my skin and encasing me in a shell, hiding me from the world.

Low key: I can’t do this.

I can never bring myself to write a poem about you. So I will write about everyone else.

Dear my first,

Did you not understand when I said no? Did you not understand when I crossed my legs? How about my exasperated  “sure just do it.” Did you not realize that I was just tired of fighting? Tired of constantly having to say no and never being enough for you. I’m sorry I broke your heart when I broke up with you, but you started slowly breaking as soon as you realized how vulnerable I was.

Dear 26 year old,

Did you realize I was 18 and dumb? Did you notice that I was a wanderer at heart and wasn’t going to stay because of you. My soul longed for adventure. I constantly reassured you that you were not stealing from the cradle, I jumped out of it. I was trying to warn you that I would always jump. Each jump would be from a slightly higher cliff. I’m sorry I hurt you when I left, but with each moment I stayed, I felt myself sinking deeper into the ground. I’m sorry, but birds aren’t meant to stay on the ground. They’re meant to skydive down and then rise back up.

Dear rapist number one,

How fucked up is it that I have to specify number one. When I wrote dear rapist my heartbeat quickened and tears started forming in my eyes. I will never be able to explain to you what you have done to me and I’ll never be able to understand why you thought it was okay. Because of what you did, every time I see you I have to walk away and find a place to cry until my lungs no longer have the energy to cry and I have two choices, suffocate on my own breath or calm down and continue living. I choose to live. But I also choose to hope that one day you rot from guilt. I may be too scared to go through a case with you, but I’m not to scared to face what you did to me, not anymore.

Dear rapist number two,

I thought you were my chance. I idealized you, thought you were the person for me. You got me. I was wrong. We had wonderful conversation and dinner. But apparently no sex on the first date is the equivalent of a zebra asking the lion to talk before a slaughter. I guess you can’t be to blame, I froze, I complied. The voice inside my head saying “just get it over with, give him what he wants and it can be over.”  I cried all the way home. I’m sorry, you will never know what you have done to me. I’m sorry, that you will never know why we didn’t work out. Maybe it’s better if you don’t

Dear you,

I’m sorry.


I haven’t written in a while so here is my summer update. Coming home was really hard. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but my friends have become family too and I’m with them 9 months out of the year, so that goodbye is much harder. It took a while to adjust to home life. I come home and share a room and a bed with my sister and realize that there is no place for my in their homes anymore.

I then went to Canada. That was a lot of fun. I went with my bio family and I tried so many new things. I ate tons of new foods, went to an art museum for the first time, and walked around a huge and diverse city. It made me realize that I don’t want a small town life. I’m meant for the city and its people.

A week after coming home from that trip, I went to Disney with my dad and siblings. We had a blast and I think my dad was more excited than we were. This trip made me really appreciate my family. Bonding is more important than I give credit. It also made me really worry about my dad. There were rides he couldn’t ride due to his size/weight. He physically could not fit into the rides and this broke my heart while simultaneously scaring the ship out of me. He has really gained a lot over the last 8 years, ever since him and my mother divorced and his mother moved into our house. Part of this is due to the fact that his mother cooks very very unhealthy foods and insists on serving huge portions to everyone. I just wish he would get a hold of his eating habits. I’m scared about how long he’ll live with the lifestyle he is leading. On the bright side, it encourages me to try and live a healthier lifestyle.

To start this healthy lifestyle, I had a boob job. Don’t worry, reduction, not implants. I’m really happy with the results and want to continue doing good things to my body, working out, eating healthier, and being kinder to my body. One thing I am ready for it to regain full feeling back everywhere and to be able to wear at least a sports bra. Right now sports bras mess with my stitches and I start itching/ hurting. I’m also on the couch a lot due to moving too much making me exhausted and causing pulling in my breast muscles. BUT I’m on the road to recovery and that’s all that matters.

I’m really just ready to get back to school. Sorority recruitment is coming up, RA training, and I’ll be meeting my new staff for the front desk. I have so many exciting opportunities coming up and I’m trying to stay energetic, but sometimes its just kind of tiring. Anyways, that’s all I’ve got for now.


Ode to Finals

you devil

in all my efforts you revile

I try to study

but my brain is growing rusty

I try to listen to music

but all I can say is fuck it

so here I am

trying to be comical

when I should be getting ready to cram

so fuck you finals