it was fire we danced inside
burning our skin and we melted
together, and you took every
touch and kissed where it hurt
in the slow rhythm of the fire’s
flames and the tame beast
awoke from it’s slumber
and that night the innocence
died and left where I’m standing
is questions of what proceeds
after such an adventure—

Things to learn

The negative anonymous message I receive, don’t bother me and they haven’t for a long time. One of the best things I learned through tumblr is about the nature of people and how to have a tough skin. The beauty of this place on the internet, I don’t know you and you truly do not know me or my heart.

So the remarks that I’ve been getting, and most I don’t even answer, have no affect on me. They’ve ranged from my weight, appearance, views, maturity (or they say there lack of), being undesirable, and “how would any man want you” to “no wonder you’re still single”

Something must be greatly lacking in that person’s life to want to beat down someone they hardly know, and I pity them and I want to hug them. 

Now, if it was someone like my sister or my best friend or even a co-worker constantly belitting me through comments like that, that would have a toll on my soul, it would sink me deep into despair, because they know me better. But guess what, they don’t. The people in my life love and uplift me, they make me feel beautiful and loved— that’s what matters to me.

I’ve always received more love than I could ever receive of hate here. I’ve shared more here than I ever do to people in my every day life but I really don’t share everything, you only get small personal pieces of me through pictures, poetry, and snippets of my life. Unfortunately, you don’t get to see my smile, or hear my laugh, or feel the way I hug, you don’t get to witness what makes me sad or what angers me, or how flippin excited I become over small stupid things.

I turn off anon and they win, I let them get to me. I get a kick out of some of them and I like to respond to some of them in case someone else gets a message like that and feels defeated and lets that comment bury itself under their skin. It’s in case someone needs to see that I don’t. I don’t lose sleep over comments from people who have no face and no presence in my life. 

In the light and in the darkness, my life is beautiful, and others don’t get to decide that for me.

You're definitely a bit fat

By which standards? Who sets those standards? Am I thin? Hell no. I have big thighs. A bit of a stomach. Love handles. Big breasts. Am I fat? Hell no.

Hi, my name is Lillian. It’s not fat, ugly, Christian, virgin, writer, or anything else you want to label me. I’m a human being with skin around my skeleton and organs inside my skeleton. I have a heart and a soul and a brain that carries feelings and thoughts and emotions. You might want to check yourself if those parts are working in you or if an alien has taken over because I know humanity is better than this.

I shouldn’t have to worry about what I post here. This is my personal blog, treated like my journal. I’m allowed that.

He changed the way my skin felt
and the way it draped over my skeleton.

I will teach my children

I will teach my children the definition
of decency and help them understand
humanity and that we are our own
set of skin and bones with a heart
that beats to it’s own rhythm and every
action will not affect the multitudes
and every response will not shatter
the earth:

I will teach my daughters that they
are not defined by what is in between
their legs and underneath their shirts,
they can radiate hope or static and 
they’re given soft hands to offer to
strangers and that’s will be best part
of being a part of this world:

I will teach my sons that their strength
becomes them, in any form they choose,
that their ability is not based on the statistics
in sports and locker room talk but by the
way they treat women and men and when
someone needs to be lifted up from the dirt,
they take them in their arms and set them
upon solid ground:

I will teach myself now, that I am not
defined by my labels but by my heart
and my heart is only mine and only
mine to offer to every passing need
and my happiness is not dependent 
anyone but me and I am allowed
darkness, as long as I remember
the light I carry inside myself.

misplaced hope

the unexpected lies in our veins,
covered by expectations pressed 
into our skin from birth—ideals of
how to be and who to be with 
direction of when and where,
and we’ve allowed to become
defined by what society has
labeled—and the only direction
this is headed, is chaos in ruins
and we’ll be flooded in our own
destruction as ash takes over oxygen

I’m still me. I didn’t change. I remain full and whole. I’m no less and I’m no more of a woman than I was before. I’m not unclean. And I don’t regret it, I don’t regret it.

I just let something happen and I can’t believe it and no one else would believe it and I don’t think I can tell anyone.

I’ve wished upon stars

I’ve wished upon stars
and I’ve wished upon galaxies
but no matter how many times
I wish, I wish in vein, I wish
with wasted breath and what
was held down by hope, now
gleams in the hopeless, because
when I look into glaring mirrors
I see the void of what was once
beautiful in the pits of my eyes.

don’t be a fool, girl
you may not be meant for this world

not in the way you desire
nor in the way you dream

your purpose is still blank
your hopes have been wrong

step back and become

everyone is tired
of all those tears.

There’s a stutter in my ears of reality
and expectations, my hopes and dreams
have ridden in from the horizon as if
they are just beyond my reach,
and I’m sitting in stagnant waters of
uncertainty as patience bucks me off
the saddle. How do you use words
without talking and how do I send
off signals without being detected?

I have no idea what’s happened to you and I have no idea what to think. So I stopped thinking. I pushed you far outside of my mind as I possibly could because it hurt too much to begin to think of either of the possibilities I began to imagine. Both of them squeezed my heart tight. Either you were dead or you decided it was easier to fall away from the thoughts of us to continue to talk to me. Both of those explanations ended in the same result, me without you. I reluctantly moved on. I imagined the potential of our love story to be epic and unique with equal parts of selfish and selfless. I believe some people are only a short time to be alive in our lives and maybe that’s all it was. You showed me the way I could possibly fall in love, you made it more tangible than I had ever experience before. I think about you sometimes still and my guts don’t wrench out of my stomach and my heart doesn’t tear into shreds. I never wanted to say goodbye to you, but we don’t always get to pick the way our journey’s take us.

I want to stab every person in the eye who looks at me and tells me “a beautiful woman like you doesn’t stay single for long”

in the eye… with a plastic fork…