Your life should matter most to you, before you involve someone else.

Love yourself before you can be part of a loving relationship.
Remember,
You need to not self-harm for your own sake, not for someone else's.

Sexuality is not a need; IT'S A GIFT

You can not be secure in a sexual relationship until you are secure in your own sexuality and individuality.

No more blame game

You can't live your life
and be a better person
if you blame other people.

Take responsibility for yourself!
Be confident in yourself!
And know what LOVE means to you.

Be confident in the future you can make for yourself.

LIE TO ME

tell me a lie about LIFE that I haven't heard before and make it sound more convincing than the last.

You asked, what does love mean to me?

"LOVE ME",
tell yourself
"I love myself"
"I am myself"
"I love being myself"

HE taught you self-hatred and denial
that is not the life YOU will lead.

REAL LOVE
is mutual caring, respect, honesty, truth;
being able to be your whole self with someone else.

I AM LOVEABLE!

NOTHING THAT WAS DONE TO ME COULD MAKE ME OTHERWISE.

I loved you, because I knew no other way of being.
I've felt the power of being loved,
and now the absence of it
shakes me life with terror.

How will I love again?
Will I ever love again?

Do not ask these questions of yourself;
ask yourself,
"At what point did it become so impossible to love myself???"

I fell in love with you
the first time
you looked into my eyes,

such expressive eyes,
a mind exploding with creativity.

A body also so familiar with the constant
presence of pain.

I knew in touching you I needed to be so delicate;
always afraid of going overboard,
never coming up for air.

I can't forget your taste or your touch.
I don't want to.

What you and I did together,
and what I showed you,
was so different,
from what he did to me.
Today he is this unwelcome presence that tells me
"YOU'RE NEVER ENOUGH"
That I am no one,
unless I can see myself
reflected in the eyes
of someone who loves me.

Who am I?
When this mirror breaks and I am surrounded by self-hatred.

I am no one but myself.
Always have been, always will be.

A Quote From Unbreakable on Netflix

"We're different. We're the strong ones and you can't break us!!"

The Hurting

"hurt people, hurt people"
it's not okay to justify your actions,
blaming your behavior on a part of yourself
that has struggled to come
to terms with her past.

Just because I have been so deeply hurt,
does not mean
that I must spread this hurt
among the people I meet.

I can spread,
LOVE,
HOPE &
JOY!

But first, I need to learn to feel these things for myself, not just for someone else.

UNIVERSAL LOVE

If you really did 
LOVE ME
then I know that you
still love me today
and always will.

LOVE ALWAYS

Love is lost,
if you let it languish
from a lack of self-care,
understanding and forgiveness.

Nothing is unforgivable,
just as nothing is worthless
in the great round.
I know,
I can trust
that LOVE will find a way
through this darkness.
Love always finds a way.

All of my life I was afraid,

That someone would tell me,
they didn't want to hear what I had to say.

SURVIVORS REMIND YOURSELF DAILY

"HOW HAPPY I AM TO HAVE SURVIVED"

Give the feelings of guilt and shame back to the person who deserves it.
Give it back to the perpetrator who unwillingly
made these feelings a sickening part of your life.
Know that these feelings,
are not yours to hold.
They never were.
Give them back
and don't allow yourself to be weighted by guilt anymore.

And see how powerful it is to really be free

I don't hold regrets but..

If I did I would regret not allowing myself to be a child during my childhood.
I spent most of those younger years,
wishing and praying for the freedom of adulthood.
I thought everything would be better then
because I could make my own decisions.
I wouldn't be dependent on anyone,
and I would finally be free to just be me.

Needless to say I was wrong,
and as adulthood loomed closer,
and my sense of freedom
slowly but surely increased,
my communication with friends and family dropped off.
I built a brick wall around parts of my life,
segregated myself,
because I was ashamed
of all the impulsive decisions I was making in my adolescence.
I learned by hard knock lessons
and continued to hide my frustrations.
Continually hiding my need for help.

"Innocence"
was the ingredient I thought I lacked.
Because a man did very adult things to me
I already thought myself doomed to the penitentiary of hell.
I did not think I had much to live for,
in fact I told myself if GOD was REAL;
s/he would not let me grow up in this body,
because I felt I would never be able to enjoy SEX again.
I thought the whole world was powered by sex,
it was something women gave men to appease their appetite
and hope to lessen their tyranny over their households.
SEX was the snack that kept the perverts in check,
kept everybody sane and smiling.

But this sensuality,
this intimate way of knowing another
was dead to me
(I thought)
He had ruined it for the rest of my life.
By taking what was NOT his to hold
and treating a little girl
like a dirtyy little slut.
I was just as soiled
as the disposed sheets
stained with my cherry juice.
I asked GOD,
"how he could leave me ALL ALONE in that room?!"
and the answer was not immediately clear,
all pathways in front of me felt darkened
by my depression and my desire to die too young.

It may have taken me 18 years
with a lot of twists, turn-arounds, upsets and messy spills.
But I've made it to my answer,
and I have no regrets.
To do GOD's work
to teach young children to love and trust themselves,
before they share that love with someone else.
That is my purpose, that is my calling
and I would not be the teacher I am today
without the tears I shed in solitude.

Blind Pilot "tune of this decade"

There are things I cannot forget
I wish none had happened yet
There are some things I cannot forget

We were stronger than the preachers
We were wiser than the law
We took off sleeping by the river
And the beaches in your car
Up where you taught me how to drive a stick
And told me your family secret
You were scared
I was caught.

Why'd you stay behind
Packing for the trip?
Why'd you ask me to be the one
First through your lips?
I was awkward and I could not hear
Your body through my body's fear,
We were going to hell

There are things I cannot recall
There are some things that would risk it all.
Now these are the things we cannot recall on.
These are the things I cannot recall.

never tell

my art is about what people don’t talk about.

what is swept under the rug.

what I never wanted to talk about.

what I spent my whole life trying to tell myself,

wasn’t real,

wasn’t important,

wasn’t meaningful

or was’t worth anything.

I wasn’t worth anything.

life after the violation of childhood rape

that is my 'story' to tell

it’s not a secret anymore, something I must share

for the sake of women and girls everywhere.

I can’t bring a baby into the world knowing

I had the most amazing mom in my world

and the neighbor down the street

still molested and had his way with me.

It’s 2015 and I can make a name for myself

as an artist, as a creator, feminist and as an 

advocate for this 

invisible war.

Giving a voice to voiceless,

the countless, 

victims of childhood sexual assault. 

"L-O-V-E, Hey that's spells LOVE!"

Love is not always kind.
Love is home,
Love is honesty.
Love is HOPE!

Love is not a game,
Love is not a joke!
No winners or losers;
Love is not always remote.
It is not removable,
renewable,
chewable? jew-able?

It's natural.
It's the sweet song you're meant to sing
into the solace and silence of your lover's inner ears,
as they sway you in your arms,
and you are surrounded in the presence of L-O-V-E.
Hear all that is honest in my voice.
Confidence is a human display.
A showdown between 'right' and 'wrong',
the 'humane' and the 'queer'.

I wasn't born this way,
nor did the men who hurt me,
make me this way.
I am the 'maker',
the Creator of my own destiny,
and I will not let you enshadow my desire with the darkness of your guilt.

The Breaking

No longer will I
get lost in between the
"I love you(s)" or
"you mean the world to me"

If I want somebody else to love me
then I need them to love all of me.

Somebody else cannot love all of you until YOU learn to LOVE YOURSELF.

These parts that you hate,
the ways in which
your skin crawls,
feeling a perpetrator is always present.

You cannot love somebody else when you are living at the edge of your sanity.

You need to acknowledge the parts of yourself that still feel so unlovable,
these parts always crave to fill a void
with the attention and affections of someone else.
You're always looking for approval reflected in the eyes of some greater person.

Give these parts, your broken girl parts, YOUR ATTENTION.
You need it now more than ever.
You are your number one advocate.
You alone in your body,
a vessel of GOD's love
is not mangled and tangled from the effects of traumatic sexual abuse.

Love yourself holistically,
so that one day you can hold her in your arms again.

KNOW THEN
all that you are, can be loved and shared with someone you truly love.

KNOW THEN
that shame cannot hurt you there.
When you finally accept yourself,
when you can be in a loving relationship with your own mind, body and spirit.
Then you will be free.

You won't have to worry about treating someone you love so mean.

KNOW NOW
I can no longer be the abused,
because my anger and anguish is too much for a single soul
and I am so frozen with fear,
that I'll become the abuser and spread hurt like a disease.

ART ARCHIVE

The Me in You

i want you this day and everyday;

I want the hurt you feel to be own.

Suck up your pain and spit it out,

I’d do it over and over again

all day, everyday,

till there is nothing left of us

but our bruised bodies.

Orgasmic, our souls floating somewhere above our chests.

With you,

all that I carry with me, 

feels so much lighter,

like I can finally breathe and see 

all there is to be.

Work Harder Girl

To fight to be my own.
To work 45 hours a week;
not think of child molestation during the work week.
Stay asleep long enough to just taste your dreams,
but never staying to find the escape in sleep.

I wonder when its worth it
with the government and the state taking out its bite;
what we really all work for
and if its ever enough.

well i know since my wages once came from
under the table trade offs and buy offs.
but what are you really thinking or even feeling at all?
that friendship and fights can be solved in numerals and decimals.
change and dollar bills,
new clothes and maybe your first tattoo

i don't really fucking know
all i know if yes it sucks to work hard
but if you're gonna play hard you shouldn't be
playing on other's emotions and dimes.

SAMlways the Thief

I like to do things,
take things,
right under people's noses.

Cause that's what happened to me,
something stolen, something broken,
right in broad daylight.

I wore my curse home,
like a child carries their lunch bag
or a girl clutches to her doll.

A crime that left no evidence for the cops,
cept my cunt and his cock,
no cuts, no crime-scene,
he did sex with me all over the whole house.
Where's there to look?
What am I looking for?
I know I'm missing,
 the absence of something undefinable.


Too faithful to ever fail,
Too fearful to ever feel,
a fighter
but still fucked before five.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I steal
to still feel guilty.

I lie
to still feel hollow.

I anger at their lies,
all too many reasons
to never give them a second chance.

On the fly...
I steal because I know I'll get away with it.
Just like he got away.

Just like that,
I've always been sin-filled
stained burgundy too young,
but no one seemed to notice.
so I just bit my tongue.
I still bite my nails, my toes, my lover's tits.

oh you're just so sweet,
and sensitive.
and soft spoken.

Am I a sinner or am I a saint?
If I'm neither should I just paint,
lie after lie
until one's so captivating it seems believable?

I've become a master at 'the game,'
the one no one talks about,
an invisible wound festering on far too many.
You see,
I've been feigning innocence for quite some time now
and I forget to ask 'Why I do the things I do?'
I just do them,
and try to forget them.

Gone Home..

How can we go home if we're still so high?
I was there,
But I wasn't aware
Of what I was doing or feeling.

Best call home before things get
Badder, nastier, go farther.
No excuses, No prayers;
Heads too high to get help,
Too far gone to feel anything but
Fear and a fire burning within.

All that's in me,
Shakes in sight of you
White as chalk
Skin paper thin
Paler than the ghost I feel like I've become
Fractures that failed to mend
My hands and feet did things
Became someone else's
So bold, doing things
I could of, would of, should of
Never of done.

Being is believing.
What you see is a deception
People dreaming of answers,
Too big too far off to make any sense.

We believe in a greater being
So that all these tiny tragedies will have meaning;
Heaven doesn't fall from the sky,
The sun circles around earth.
The sun sets, the sun rises
Some come, some go.
We know there's always more
But that never lessens that hurt we feel.

What are we lying, spying, crying, trying for??
Jesus what are we even trying for,
Why are we trying to be anything at all?
How can you forgive what you can't forget?
Where is our god when the innocent meet their end all too soon,
Suffering in pain and solitude
Do you smile down counting sins?
Or do you weep as we seek answers to our survival?

I made one best friend in college

~An Atypical Love Poem~

I want to know more,
spend a moment or a million
immersed in you,
mothering you
and loving you.
And all that grows and flourishes in you,
in the love and the light of the Lord.

You're light on your feet.
You love to dance,
you'd let anyone know.
You don't care who's looking,
and I couldn't stop looking even if I tried.

Your smile flirts with those parts of me that still feel soft.
You've become like a fairy who flits and flutters
in and out of my dreams as she pleases.
I'm always trying to get closer
to the clone I create in my dreams,
who I try to kiss and run amiss with,
naked, wild and free.

You're a creator,
and I honor all that you choose to create.
I'm getting caught up in my conscious
that can't let go of these high hopes my dreams bring up.

I just want to show you,
how out of this world being connected can be.
That woman to woman,
that connection is no less brilliant or deep
as a man to his woman.
I don't expect you to be anything you're not,
or feel anything you don't.
I just want to lie beside you,
lock eyes with you,
lock lips with you,
and even if it's just for a little
I hope I can make this world seem a little sweeter.

PROCESSING THROUGH POETICS

It is part of the therapeutic technique, Cognitive Processing therapy, to have the patient write a narrative,  a descriptive account of their most traumatic event.
My trauma predates my ability to write descriptively, so it has been the challenge to find a way to channel these memories creatively.
I am utilizing poetry and art therapy as resources to address and process my trauma triggers.

My source of creativity is no longer a source of discontent.
Turn your pain into passions.
Don't drown in the darkness.

I. Play Pretend

How can your birthday be the worst day of your life?

How do you grow older when every year you wish to grow thinner?

How do you forget something that doesn’t fit in?

How do you go about coming out?

When you never really had a choice about what was cumming?

You used to say I and me, 

I used to mean the things I said 

and say what i mean

never get lost in-between

who’s going up or down

who’s straight or coming out

pushed up on your shoulders

flip me over

turn me up

put me down

turn me around

push me over

pull me up

flip me over

stand me up 

beat me down

yours to play with and pretend

we all play with knives.

II. Remembering//A Series of Haikus

it’s a sin if you say something

your dick was my death

stuck in time floating

i almost hear me

too drunk to dictate a thing

fumbling around

only silence, shame

(i only wanted to play)

hate me, a hostage

what i saw was ugly

i went home and it still hurt

what i saw was gross

what i felt was fear

i need more than hope alone

anything to hold

feel like a basket

Light, you could see through my cracks 

All empty inside

You choose to know me

Before I could even know me 

You saw within me

Kaleidoscope eyes

i under the microscope 

all that within me

its dark and dingy 

never a place to hide me

too scary to hold

i could never hide

what you put in front of me

it took hold of me

I stand tall and clear

He will live in avoidance

no longer scared; free

III. Call Girl

you’ll never go home

when home becomes a headache, 

a heart rush rather than a heart throb.

a street walker to a call girl. 

but i never called.

my elbow ow i mean my shoulder my wrist

my words, my notes, my cup

he just drank me up then spit me out.

i’m told, but no one knows, that god is good &

god is great.

but i’ve seen a thing or two or four or five that say otherwise

god is love, hate consumed love.

there’s a darkness lifted by fate.

the chance of knowing somehow, somewhere

things will be better and they’ll treat you better and you’ll know better

be better be bold

be a babe & bring me the soap