trigger warning: bullet/gun mention in a metaphor, discussion of beauty standards/implied body image issues

wear me down with your sandpaper words. crumble me to dust, and sweep me up, because you know i’m gonna fall. you know my no doesn’t mean anything, know i am but your helpless. paper. doll.

and i guess it’s high time i admit that, isn’t it? that i am but a little girl, and i am so fucking lost.

so take my hand, and guide me, to whatever you want to call the holy lands. and maybe it’ll never make me happy, but at least it’s something. at least it’s easy. at least it doesn’t hurt like this.

and you know, maybe you’ve got a point. maybe it was just a phase all along, and maybe i’m finally over it. little girl, for god’s sake, no one even cares you exist.

so sculpt at my thighs, until i’m skinny, and bite-sized. let my hair grow out, and die it just right. go ahead. i know there must be parts of me you don’t like. and maybe it hurts, maybe it feels like a bullet right to the head. but i won’t put up a fight.

because i am scared. and confused. and i would rather be yours than keep fighting alone like this, night after night. pushing, and pushing, and pushing against the tide. as my arms start to splinter. and ever-so-slowly, the tears finally start to dribble from my sleep-deprived eyes.

Yet another one of my teen burnout poems–which is a really bad title but also pretty much encompasses  a whole sub-category of my poetry.

I dunno, sometimes I really love doing all of this, and I feel really great about myself and super proud of it, and sometimes I want to burn everything I’ve ever written and never say another word again and also decide to reevaluate all of my life choices up to this moment. I guess work is just like that sometimes?

I dunno, I was talking about this with my friend this morning–how as a girl, and especially a teen girl, you’re told, over and over again–by 40 year old men on the internet, by your teachers, by overheard comments at school school, by messages you’ve been exposed to ever since you were a little kid–that you can’t do it. I don’t think I realized how profoundly that affected me until today, honestly. You like books? You’re a weird, crazy fangirl. You like TV? You’re dumb and shallow. You have your own unique style? You’re a dumb, rebellious teen. You like traditionally girly clothes? You’re shallow and stupid. I’ve grown up surrounded by the culture that whatever it is, you can’t do it, soley on the basis of being a young girl.

Honestly, that’s so much of why I’m not ready to run this platform under my real name. I don’t want people to think badly of me. Don’t want to offend anybody. I hide how old I am almost instinctively, because I’m terrified people will use it to judge me, and never admit to liking anything traditionally feminine.

I guess after a while, you just start to internalize all those really shitty messages. I use “little girl” in the place of my name a lot in poems–and that’s very much intentional. Because so often, that’s all I feel like I am. All I’ll ever be to society at large, no matter how old I am and no matter how much I accomplish. And most importantly, all I’ll ever be to myself. A weakling; a victim. Still nothing more than a small, helpless girl. Which is honestly such bullshit. I’m really trying to learn how to deal with that.

This isn’t to say that young girls are the only ones who are treated unfairly by society as a whole because of their gender—honestly, society is pretty shitty to young boys too, but I am obviously not male, and therefore really don’t feel qualified to talk about that experience.

On a lighter note, I’m considering just doing a little audio recording thingie of me just hanging out with my mic tomorrow if I get the time, maybe answering questions or doing something dumb with my friends over FaceTime–it’s been a while since I’ve just done something fun and pointless and happy with you guys, and I think we all could probably use something to take our minds off things for a while right now–so if that’s something you’d like to see, let me know in the comments! 🙂

Anyhow. No matter what’s going on for you right now, I’m sending all the hugs your way.

Lots of love,


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