Posted in Poetry

Tired Girls 

They’d play silly games,

Their eyes shining,

Knees scratched from

A day in the sand box.

Smiles for everyone

And lo, some more.

Tired girls, happy

For they loved.
Tag and hide and seek,

Duck duck goose.

Shouts of glee and

Screams — “You’re it!”

Picnics with ice cream,

Pizza and barbecue.

Tired girls, happy

For they loved.


Backyard games and

Hysterical laughter;

Whispered promises:

“I won’t tell anyone.”

And then telling

Everyone by mistake.

Tired girls, happy

For they loved.


Broken legs, sighs,

Sweat and tears;

Talking about

Everything and nothing.

Easter egg hunts,

Drive in movies.

Tired girls, happy

For they loved.


Visits to the library,

Smelling the books.

Playing with magnets

And marbles and stones:

“Here, catch this! Oh no!

I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Tired girls, happy

For they loved.

Posted in Rant

Screw rape culture 

You’re just minding your own business, shoving your books in your locker, you have English next with your best friend. A junior passes by and smiles at you, you smile back. 
A senior boy who you’ve seen around walks up to you and plainly says,” Hi.”

You return the greeting, confused as to why he’s talking to you. 
“I’ve seen you around and you’re really really really hot and I was wondering if you’d go out with me?” His voice pitches higher as he ends.
Your eyes widen, you’ve literally never talked to this guy before. Sure, he seems like a nice enough guy but. 
“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I, I’d rather not, sorry. I don’t really know you, so.”
And yeah, you expect him to just nod, a little disappointedly perhaps and leave. 

But he just stands there and you’re not sure if you’re supposed to wait for him to go. So you close your locker, zip up your bag and grab onto your backpack straps, hoping he’ll take a hint. But he’s still standing there, just looking at you and your class is going to start in ten minutes so you turn to leave ‘cause priorities. He grabs your arm and your eyebrows fly up. Hell no, he did not just touch you. He suddenly pulls you back and your breath is knocked out as your back hits his chest. Hell friggin no. 
You step in front, pulling your arm out from his grip and swivel around to face the asshole. He opens his mouth, possibly to give a trashy useless explanation and you will not let him speak. You make a fist, clench your teeth, pull your arm back and punch him in the nose. There’s a satisfying crack and someone somewhere screams. There’s blood gushing out of his nose, he’s grabbing onto it yelping like a dog; people are rushing up to you, some yelling, some high fiving you. 

You step back from the crowd and inspect your hand calmly to make sure his thick head didn’t bruise you. 
A teacher pushes her way through the crowd and runs towards the Asshole. She calls out for someone to get the principal. The Asshole is taken to the infirmary and the teacher tells you to ‘calm down and think about what you just did for violence is never the answer.’ 
The principal pushes his way through the crowd, his pinstripe suit and bald head shining. He looks at you, his head cocked as if wondering how such a small girl did such damage. “You. Explain to me what happened.”
And so you do, leaving no detail out. He nods along, his expression getting tighter and tighter. You assume he’s going to do something to the Asshole and you pull up your bag so you can leave but then he says, “You should’ve heard him out, he didn’t actually hurt you. Your response was quite inappropriate and unnecessary.”
Your eyes widen as he goes on. Unnecessary? Inappropriate?! Didn’t actually hurt you? 
You’re bewildered that a well educated man, the principal of a co-ed school actually thinks like that.
“I’m sorry, unnecessary? Inappropriate? If anything, your attitude is unnecessary. I’m presuming you’re well educated so you can’t possibly be telling me it’s my fault that boy grabbed my arm. He came into my personal space, he touched me without my permission and you’re saying I should’ve heard him out? If this is honestly your attitude, you should quit teaching forever because all you’re doing is teaching girls to take harassment and assault without saying anything and to be quiet victims and teaching boys that it’s okay to touch girls against their will. Which it is not. In a murder case, you don’t blame the victim. Why is it you blame them in a rape case?” — Gasps are heard. — “Men like you are why there are a quarter of a million rape cases reported annually. And that’s only reported. Who knows how many women are too scared to go to police in fear of their lives or the lives of their loved ones? Men like you are why we don’t feel safe to walk alone at night.” —You point at his face.— “Men like you are why my mum taught me how to punch people properly. Screw rape culture.”

Explaining to your mom why her daughter has been sent home early is a little hard, but by the end she’s smiling, a little teary and she hugs you, kissing your forehead. “How about we go out for some ice cream, eh?”

Inspired by this post

Posted in Poetry, Rant



I don’t have a

Road to follow.



I’m never

Good enough.



I’m not

Passionate enough.



I might be

Losing my mind.



To lose

My way.



To be ridiculed

For how I look.



I’ll drown in

My thoughts.



I won’t be

Okay alone.



I can’t take

Care of myself.



No one will

Love me.



I don’t have

Enough talent.




I’ll never love

Who I am.


Inspired by one of my favourite bloggers, Ivy.

Posted in Fiction


She’s six and she’s flying.

She’s never been on a plane, she’s never left the country. She sees them above while she’s playing in the sandbox in the playground and she nnneeaoowwws along with them, jumping up with joy. She tears down the road and back up again, her arms flap behind her and her face shines. Continue reading “Flying”