dried up paint

Scraping dried up paint from under my fingernails
With a 2H
Writing shit with too many details
Its getting late

Lying down by my book
Kept company by my pencils
And my phone
But its only decoration right now

I love it when an addiction is just decor
I could be using it but I wouldn’t know what for
To pick you up
To start to scroll
But I don’t
To want to drink
A glass of wine
But I wont

To smoke a cigarette, to think about you...
But I do


I love it when I write
Because nothing really means anything
Apart from one word at a time
And everyone thinks it does
That theres a theme or a deeper meaning
That I thought about before I finished it
I didn’t
There isn’t
Its just me talking in my head
If my brain could talk
Its just the shit it woulda said
I find meaning in my writing
But I don’t write with meaning
I write with a pencil
And dried up paint

oh

Her feet sway slightly
Lifeless
All the blood goes there to die
Her knees are getting bluer
Her skin begins to cry

She used to be so mighty
Now lifeless her legs lie

But her mind is spinning circles
Her eyes as blue as the sky
Watch out onto the open
She still holds her head high

She sits upon the window sill
Pins and needles moving up into her thigh
And she thinks to herself
Ive been sat here for a while

trigger

I sometimes loose control of my body

My hands smack into my head repeatedly

My eyes water with no end

My heart rushes and bangs through my chest

This can be caused when I have strong feelings that my brain can’t process.

I wanted to sleep for hours and I couldn’t

I wanted to feel cared for and I didn’t

I wanted to be respected and I wasn’t

So my body shut down, everything went to the beat of my heart

My hands came up, and my knuckles got bruised, and my scalp got cut, and my head wanted to lose.

I woke up the next day and saw the torn up sheet from all my shaking

I woke up and felt my hands aching

I woke up and my heart hadn’t yet stopped

The worst part is, is that normally I trigger this, with dark thoughts or loss of hope

But this time it was people, who I loved or thought I did

And so my world has crashed, and behind the pretty paintings I now see all the ash

So this is the time for me, and new beginnings, and people who I admire and look up to, not people who held knifes behind each others back.

Im not being used or abused or taken for granted

I’ll do some yoga and reflect, and not give any more chances.

Woman

As a woman

Ive started to notice sexism in my social life. If I’m seen giving orders it’s “micromanaging” “okay mum” “controlling” where as if a man does these things he is listened to, its “teaching” or “helping”.

I allowed myself to be held by men in a way that made me feel uncomfortable but “was just friendly”, talked to and about hyper sexually as an object to be seen and touched.

As a woman I am starting to be scared at how much I can see is based on nothing but my gender, no matter how much I know about an area, there will always be a dumber, more stupid man being listened to by many more.

When I use my sexuality to my advantage, as a way to make money, and to gain confidence. It’s seen as easy, a waste.

Lifeless

I wasn’t ready for you

Like a bird that can’t yet fly

How could I teach you to

Lifeless

Drained of all my strength

Drained of life

Lifeless

Is how I was left

But I’m back

And I’m teaching myself how to fly

So one day you will too

And I’ll be soaring through the skies

Before I ever get to meet you

Because I need to go through the worst

To teach you to navigate a storm

And feel the best

So that you can always feel my warmth

But today was not the time

As I have yet to build a nest

But one day I hope I will feel your life against my chest

Taylor Hopewell

Stand

You are invading my space

Stand

I’m not going to move from where I was sat

You approached me

So cheers to that

But I want you to stand

And take steps furher back

And you will.

Because you see the power in my pupils

The strength in my stance

And you know you couldn’t handle me

You wouldn’t even have a chance

Taylor

Standing up for myself, especially in the case of drunk men or boys, is something that I will always applaud myself. You come to me, expect you to be the one who moves, because I made my bed, and you are not in it.

back of the bus

I hear you at the back of the bus

Staring eyes up my legs

I hear words describing my body

From my toes to my head

You talk about what you would do

But you dont see my music is paused

You are being quite creative

But I still wont applause

Your lack of balls

Compliment me to my face

But its alright of course,

You wouldn’t even get a taste

Taylor

As a woman It can feel dehumanising when you hear people talking about your body and what they want to do. But there is still some empowerment I find in it, that something as simple as my body will be the centre of your attention, and conversation. Find it powerful how my body can turn their heads away from anything else to say.

Mummy….

Mummy,

I’m sorry for our fights

it isn’t right

to be angry with the woman who gave me life,

with the mother that made me who I am.

You taught me to be strong,

I try to show my strength in fights,

but it makes us both weaker,

we need each-other’s love to thrive.

Then, we wont have anything to fear,

because together you and I

are greater than ever

and all our problems will disappear

Taylor

I wrote this obviously for my mum, who is the greatest woman alive, shes taught me how to stand up for myself, how to look after myself ….ect but because of this I stand up to her sometimes, and I wish we didnt, because the women in my family are so strong, and if we all got along always we could do so much good. And the days that we all are getting along are some of the best days in my life