Do not tell me
I must raise my voice
And speak with strength
When I do not have to.

Do not tell me
To wear brighter colours
And shorter shoes
When I do not have to.

Do not tell me
To take the dye from my hair
And the black makeup from my eyes
When I do not have to.

Do not tell me
To stop shaving my legs
And changing my hairstyle
When I do not have to.

I will swallow my voice with pride.
I will wear what I want
As it is my body after all.
I will look how I choose
And sound how I want
And it will not make me
Any more or any less
Of a feminist.

I will do this with pride.

” — Dana Stewart, “This Is For Myself” (via seesomethingstrange)

Suicide
Slipping and drowning
Underwater, is it your own tears or thoughts?
“I don’t deserve this”, you say, “But I do”, you feel,
Closing the gap between the black nothingness of despair.
“I can’t do it anymore.”
Death, so close and so simple,
Enough.

e.r

“Don’t just be another story; make life as epic as the stories that have stuck around for hundreds of years. Make your impact, make your footprint, make it positive.” —

Why is it possible
To be so afraid of death
But want so desperately to not be alive

Why is it possible
To want so desperately to talk
But to have lost the ability to pick up the phone

Why is it possible
To crave being alone
But spiraling and dying inside when they are

Why is it possible
That there is something inside us
Stopping us from doing what we need
Simple tasks like showering and getting dressed
Become the hardest things?

Why is it possible
That we can live this way?

e.r.