I don’t know exactly when my dreams became broken, but I do know that it was due to my fears. Remember when we first knew what we wanted to be when we grew up?
Remember, when we had our very first daydream of what we could become?
Mine was to be a famous fashion designer
one day. I taught myself to draw and I’d create my own designs in the 6th and 7th grade until
doubt in myself set in. Then fake people who I knew didn’t like me began demanding thier attention when I knew they didn’t deserve it.
It confused me I guess. And I lost my confidence. The fear of failure. The fear of not being able to succeed. The fear of success, demand and not meeting expectations. Just thinking too damn much about all of this pushed my dreams further and further away until they vanished. My fears have kept me under it’s spell ever since.



I really believe that a person
can have depression for so long
that they can’t even recognize
what normal is within themselves

I’ve been writing since the age of six
But I’ve been recognizing my sadness
and writing poems about them
since the age of nine

© she
October 31, 2016



Her eyes dropped pearls of sadness
As she saw her past drift away
into nothingness
She saw the swings where she
pushed her son so high
She’ll never forget the thrill in his
Driving past by on a bus
to nowhere

© she
April 23, 2016
Artist Unknown



I didn’t ask to be. I just am. Since day one
First teased because I spoke differently.
Age five it was made clear to me, being told that I spoke too “properly” and I’ve
never forgotten it since. Can you imagine being teased for something you can’t control? I’m sure you can and I understand. But you refuse to understand why I can’t. You see, I’m different. We’re all different and “age ain’t nothing but a number” when it comes to feelings and emotions. I wouldn’t expect you to understand me. Being called the white girl in the black suit and even being called Zebra girl. Being teased for something as trivial as acting or speaking differently. Then running to hide like a poor frightened cat. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I shouldn’t expect you to understand. Not when I’m different from my family and I’m made to feel banned. Her, her, him, him and then there’s me. The one whose always looked at oddly. The one whose always looked at regardless causing me to hate me. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. The little girl reading Sweet Valley High, Beverly Cleary and Judy Bloom. The girl who was left all alone in a room. Not chosen, not picked, not talented they assumed. When proving everyone wrong, I got pulled out of the girls bathroom. Panties around my thighs, pleading with them as I cried. Kids can be so cruel. Adults can be so cruel. Life can be so cruel. Because I’m still a black sheep when I hear myself speak which isn’t that often until last week. I was recording a conversation as proof of abuse only to hear myself speak that even I’d have disapproved. I can see why now, I’m the black sheep among my peers I appear weak.



Meant to shelter and meant to protect
Very limited durabilities with mediocre effects
The color of fear, the unknown
and mystery
I never understood what it all
meant to me
Just a sea of black
Just a sea of black

© she
October 28, 2016



Vacant, hollow, and in need of restoration
Gutted, empty, but structurally sound
Would you walk inside and ascend it’s stairwell?
Would you check each chamber to see the beauty inside?
On the main floor a parlor, a bedroom, an office and a sitting. Do you think it has potential? Or do you find it unfitting?

Would you modify it to fit your needs or leave it as is, appreciating it’s ingenuity
Would you be interested in buying this historical forgotten heart? That I own and no longer want, but I believe is still a work of art
So I’ll sell it now at the going price. You could fix it up and decorate it as you’d like

© she
February 8, 2016


I wanted to loiter around
all day long. Soaking up
every bit of him.
He was a smart and humorous
man with a brain I wanted
to pick

© she
February 16 2016
Artwork by Nekokirara



You can stay here
You have enough food, power, security
You can stay here
For the rest of your life,
you can stay here
But you shouldn’t stay here
You can’t expect such splendid guests
Such as yourself to show up
If you stay here
You’ll be alone
You were alone
Everything is about people
Everything in this life is worth a damn
It couldn’t be just me
It shouldn’t be just you

© she
October 23, 2016
Artwork by Helen Rose