Did you see her? The little girl she used to be, the girl you stole without a worry or care

Where is she?

The one with ponytails and bows in her hair

So innocent and with so much flair

Have you seen her? 

Or did you fuck her away to nowhere

Did you leave her, heart and soul completely bare? 

Do you even care?
I dont remember who she used to be, 

What she thought or who she thought she would one day be

Ive tried to set her free

But then I remember what you did

I remember the places you touched and it was more than just skin

You, you touched her within

And she felt nothing

How could she? 
Do you know who she is today?

If you saw her in the street would you know its her?

Or would you walk past as if she’s a ghost, 

As if you never slid inside of her and took her innocence away? 

Would you know the sound of her heartbeat as it pounded in her throat

Like the gags between the vomit escaping the lips of your betrayal 
Ill tell you this

She would know you

The stench of beer on your breath would trigger the memories in her head

They would remind her that you had her in binds

The smoke on your skin would give you away 

The sound of your voice as you emptied yourself into her would pierce her ears
But you must know you didn’t break her

You must know she is a survivor no matter what you did 

You may walk by her and never know

But because of you she will never quit 


The woman in me has been set free
By the history within the walls
By the concrete and sand of the coliseum
Where wild animals got into brawls
From bloodshed to tourist attraction
To celebrations that take place now
My sould has been set free
And there’s no going back now
The woman in me has been set free
By the paintings and art in museums
From the Mona Lisa to the Starry Night
To the vastness of the sculpture of David
Standing at 17 feet in height
My heart now paints its own story
Throught the beauty that I see
With watercolor symbolizing the magificence before me
The woman in me has been set free
By the moonlit paths of the ocean
By the harmonic motion of the water as it spreads its wings
And beckons me with the taste of salt on its skin
By the birds that sing a song of freedom
Tattooed across my wrist
Reminding me that this is not a dream,
But the reason why I exist

When traveling most people begin with a plan. They plan the destination(s), activities/sights to see, places to eat, etc. They get to their destination and there’s a strict schedule to follow – after all – they have a plan! So the trip becomes regimented and to the T. 

Here’s my advice: take your plan, crumble that shit up, throw it in the trash and RELAX! Go with the flow. Let the adventure come to you – and then run like hell with it! 

Many people do not understand the beauty in adventure. Adventure is not just visiting a new place, but really exploring the unknown without an agenda – a scheduled plan that tells you where to be and at what time. 

Being a planner is boring. I know this because I’ve been a planner all of my life, yet I’ve never experienced more freedom, adventure and fun times as much as I have this trip the moment I threw my plan out the window. 

Be courageous enough to try new things you never thought you would. See what the world has to offer, explore its nooks and crannies through roads less traveled. Learn as much as you can about your destination and imprint it like a photo in your mind. Culture is a beautiful thing – share yours and take in others. Be open and flexible for that’s the best way to explore the world – no plan needed! 

I imagine the workhouse with dull gray walls smelling of dust and sweat

With children receiving lessons in the form of a long fulmination from the wet lips of uneducated teachers

They inhale the silent threat and exhale their freedom as they sit beset

By those around them

I imagine men, women and children all beaten

Not on the skin, but in mind and spirit

No, not on the skin

But their heart and souls would bear it

The daily bell that sounds at the start and end of each workday reminds them that religion has made them servants of labor

The curtain of poverty covers them in darkness, clouding their hope of seeing their loved ones

And leaving unspoken words on their tongues

I imagine the women and girls as workhouse whores,

Domestic slaves bound by the strands of the rags in which they used to carry out their chores

The men break stones of dignity to build roads in which they would never travel

For the reality is that they are at the mercy of the workhouse with no other means of survival

The moon sparkles on the water like a million diamonds waiting to be cut into shapes that fit into rings waiting to be placed on the fingers of virgins
The wind blows whispers of love on their silky untouched skin
The stars sprinkle gentle kisses from the dark skies,
but a few passing clouds invite them to spread their thighs beneath them
And a storm begins
The salty rain pierces the gems and rolls down their cheeks hot as blood
The wind screams for release as the stars disappear into the night sky leaving behind the clouds to penetrate the darkness
And when the storm passes there they lay

Emotions can be such empty feelings

Meaningless to those who don’t understand

Maybe you should give me your hand,

And I’ll let you stand where I stand

I’ll let you see the things I’ve seen

And I’ll let you feel what I felt

But I’ll warn you: It isn’t pretty

From where I’m standing I’ve seen my teddy bear ripped apart

Drugs and cash took the place of her fluffy little heart

I was in head start

From where I’m standing mommy and daddy are yelling

Soon, they’ll come for me

And I’ll get beat

From where I’m standing I can see the silver metal

I know soon my knees will be bleeding

And I’ll be pleading

Please stop, please stop

But it’ll be useless

From where I stand I feel unimportant, unwanted

I still feel haunted

Nothing I did was ever right

Do you know what that feels like for a child?

But I still smiled

Until that day when I felt his weight

I was seven or eight

I felt his hands as they grasped places unknown to me

And I felt shame

Unaware of what I did to deserve these things

I felt scared

And when he was done I just sat there and stared

At the empty feelings of my emotions

Because I was too little to understand

Now from where you stand you can keep on judging me

But until you stand where I stand

Until you see what I see

And you feel what I feel

You will never understand what it takes to heal

And my emotions will be empty feelings,

Meaningless to you




You’ve made me feel like her again
The little girl sad and vulnerable
Without a voice
You’ve made me feel alone again
Cast aside and unloved
Scared and scarred
Without a voice
You’ve made me feel powerless
Like the little girl with her arms tied behind her back
Without a voice
You’ve made me feel detached
Like somehow I don’t belong
Numb, just like that little girl
Without a voice
You’ve made me feel her shame again
Like I am the only one at fault
You’ve made me feel her pain again
Though in a different way, of course
You’ve made me feel like that small little girl again
Sad, tortured and lonely
Without a voice
You’ve made me feel guarded
Like I need to protect my heart and hers
For we both have no voice