Pussy Rant

It’s almost 10 years that I started this page.

Sometimes I don’t even recognize the girl who began all of this . It’s funny to think Pussyrant really is just a memoir of my 20s.

Originally, this all started merely out of fun, inspired by boobs and loubs (iykyk) Convincing myself that I could do that, I could story tell my life. All I needed was me, myself and I.

As soon as the voyage began, the plan of course shifted as an outlet to cope with my then break up. But within that healing, love found me. That adventure quickly changed my style of writing. Evolving through inspiration, through flirtatious games, through another’s point of style.

Then life got comfortable.

Time went on and I only revisited this platform through times of pain and anger. I felt it was the only way I could be seen, that I could be heard.

Slowly but surely I resented what this page symbolized.

I was no longer the girl who could story tell about a blazer that smelled like onions. I was no longer the girl who could freely write without having to study every line to make sure it rhymed.

I became a girl writing to someone rather than for myself.

Now I lie awake in the middle of the night writing my rants in my head that never reach the pen. Telling myself I’ll start the next morning, the next day, the next week, the next year?

Once upon a time a lost boy found their shadow

Biting into forbidden fruit that froze time

Crossing state lines to become a wife

To only become…

A forgotten character in a storyline

a ghost in a fairy tale

a distant memory that lies in your archives

Never thought I see the day

A place in time where we no longer exist

Where our paths no longer meet

And our hearts no longer yearn

Hope makes you believe in fairy tales and happy endings

Hope made me believe that a 4 letter word was enough to bring us back together

That we would be forever

There’s a place in time

Where we do exist

Where our paths meet

And our hearts yearn for each other

But that place is nor here or now

And I stand alone with no hope in time

Hitting rock bottom

Is like free falling

No one’s going to catch you

2022 seems to be the second year of a new relationship. 

You’re either going to make it or break it. 

2021 was the beautiful honeymoon stage of beauty and life

the rose colored glasses suddenly were wiped clean and the true nature of what hides beneath makes its way to the surface. 

I found myself being in love with someone who no longer wants to be with me.

 I lost a best friend without explanation besides just dropping me. 

Instagram and Snapchat constantly remind of memories that I wish I could just delete because the heartbreak…

 is.. just…unbearable. 

The rhythm of words that I once found solace in completely stopped 

because the pain made my mind and my spirit completely numb. 

Angry outbursts find me at my most vulnerable times 

Yet the ones I would go to

I can no longer confide. 

i find myself holding back from flourishing new connections because I’ve been let down so many times. 

The comical thing of it all is everyone thinks i’m doing just fine. 

Curated collections of photos and videos put out into the world on my accord. 

But if I disappeared how would anyone know?

So I’m just trying to find my way back to the girl who started writing out of heartbreak.

And hopefully she finds me. 

a new beginning

a new place

a place to heal

to love

to self love

to learn

to grow

to dance

to feel free

to feel alive 

within myself

by myself

We’re like 2 strangers who decided to live together.

The weight on my shoulders feel heavier than ever. 

My legs ready to snap because I can’t hold up the weight, 

I just want to scream on the edge of a cliff

and just drift away.

I came in optimistic 

but I could feel the energy shift. 

Constantly hearing about your woes 

and I just want us to glow from within. 

Are we overthinking and not living?

Letting this addictive toxicity consume us

I see our boys and feel they are a metaphor for our situation

one asking for love and attention

the other on the fine line of being passive aggressive 

And you nitpicked at the word “ours” and that might just be the underlying problem.

Separated but no longer separate

-still separated

Was the backslap i didn’t know I needed to have

You have awakened a part of me that I thought I mourned long ago

You took me by the arms and threw me out to fend for myself

Emerging like a Phoenix from her ashes

The bodies of work come quietly knocking at my door

So faint like the wind is beating against my drum

The stale taste of words on my tongue

And I turn with a blind eye from my own cry

When my eyes are open

I see a strong beautiful brown eyed woman

with warm tones radiating like the sun

a natural being with curls

wild and free

every strand 

perfectly imperfect

with stories to tell. 

when my eyes are closed

I hide in the dark

pulling at the roots of my scalp

knees to my chest in a protective shield  

repelled by the fact I shared too much. 

But I was protecting you

And that’s when I realized i needed to protect myself