‘repressed rage’
she said
as I clung to the whitest porcelain
‘it’ll do that to ya’
leaning against the doorframe
and I swear I could tell you how many flecks of dirt were in the grout
For how many times
I’d worn in a spot from kneeling
‘it’ll figure itself out’
but I couldn’t hear
cause it just kept coming

Dude, cultists are so awful.
Double-speak, indirect action,
All this horrid pageantry.
The intelligence is so lacking,
The feebleness so evident.
Not only in the strength of their arguments
But by the content of its body.
Frankenstein & the monster.
Very stupid.
Arrogant, ignorant?
Yep.
Short-sighted, unintelligible?
Absolutely.
It would stun to think
If it weren't so simplistic.
To take such a reductionist view
On things so complex,
I do understand that need for you.

Baseless threats
And poor attempts at intimidation.
Meek control
Where everything is construed as favor.
Cannibals,
Obsessed with their palate & others' flavors.
Barbarians,
Bastardizing the words of others.

But to run with it
After you understand it,
You're a ******* imbecile.
To not build upon it
But to take it as gotten:
You don't get anything.
It shows.

even though you want to give me all of you,
i can't give you nothing from me.
you are too smart for this sick girl.

Behind a locked door, there lies a child

You hear the sound of quiet crying as you look at their red face,

Their fever coming to a boil,

Their skin clammy and aching

Their throat so sore it makes no noise

They look into your eyes and
You see defeat,

the wish to scream never coming true

Their eyes turning into a swirl of black nothingness, it almost swallows you hole

We are worthy. We are capable. We are loved.

Especially when we're sick and tired or when we feel like laying in bed all day. Or when we actually do nothing the whole day. I want to remind us that this doesn't mean we're not productive, not capable or not worthy.

We're still as worthy as before, we're still as loved as before. It's just that our bodies and minds need to rest.
We actually need to rest regularly, but sometimes we forget that.

Now that I am sick I realized that and it's a relief to be there for myself although I feel so unproductive. I am loved. And you are, too. No matter what you're doing or not doing.

It is no measure
Of good health
To be well adjusted
To a profoundly
Sick society