magillskill

[magillskill]

When I feel too much

When I feel too much, things go badly.

Words are said, and I try to pick up the pieces.

Thinking that this is my fault. My self-dug grave.

How can I control these emotions? These feelings?

I’m not sure. Mood stabilizer. Drinking. No, wait. Drinking makes it worse.

Burning anger, chilling apathy, bright happiness, an empty and cold sadness.

So eclectic and colorful are my emotions.

How hard it is to keep them subdued when they are so intense.

I hate feeling. Feeling too deeply.

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If I ever keep my head in place hell would freeze over.

It falls around tipping and turning and I’m just trying to hold it up.

All of the thoughts are jumbled inside from the rattling. I hear them slam against my skull, loud thumps go bump bump bump.

I hold it still then miss the chaos. Maybe I’ll leave it loose just a little while longer.

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Should I feel bad should I feel Bad for failing a friend.

An hour of work is only an hour but it’s not mine

Will you be disappointed will I be disappointed

I’m not sure but it’s my night anyway

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Haven’t been on here in a while. I don’t know what’s going on anymore

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“Stop turning superheros into social justice warriors.”  They were created to be social justice warriors 

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Sportscaster Dale Hansen defends student wrestler Mack Beggs and takes a stand against transphobia

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a secret code between women: are you safe? in a contact of eyes. i’m here if you need me, the littlest shift of a skirt, of an inclined head, of watching the man who is asking you to smile, bitch. you aren’t alone on the walls of restrooms, i was where you are too. the quiet doling of emergency numbers, the shelters. the space between two women in a largely empty train station. the waiting game of two women strangers who walk, quietly and quickly, to their cars in abandoned parking lots, who watch to be sure the other leaves safely. text me you get home safe. the tally marks of drinks on hidden wrists, carefully disguised as other things ever since men picked up on what it meant and used it to target the “weakest link.” 

my father tells me we have nothing to worry about. last night he sent me one of those email chains that say at the top “Safety Tips For The Women In Your Life!!!! Don’t Let Her Die!!” 

me, and the stranger on the train. she is asleep and the man is asking me who i am going home to. i feel tears pricking the sides of my eyes. i am 13 while he towers over me. he reaches out one hand, and while i don’t know how she knows, she speaks up without opening her eyes: “If you touch my daughter, sir, I will murder you.” Whatever he grumbles is lost in history, because this moment I am so grateful for the existence of other people that I cannot breathe.

I am 19 and on my phone when i become aware of a 13 year old girl is smiling nervously at a man who’s saying disgusting things. I grab her arm. “There you are, cindy,” I say, and then look at the man like he is bile. “Do you need something from my sister?” i ask, and i walk away with her. she cries later.

this is the way of things: a silent, secret web. our promise to each other that despite our differences, when it comes to the wire, we become family, instantly. the unspoken promise. i’m here. i’m watching. i’ll witness.

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“… and we are in bed together laughing and we don’t care about anything.”

Charles Bukowski

(me)

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when your depression gets mistaken for laziness 😩😩😩🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️❤️💯💯💯📢📢📢👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽

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Chance the Grammy winner

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me, learning things about myself: oh this is bad

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Just finished crying