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continually updated list of resources with things you can do to support black lives

Share AND do what you can through the list. Even if you cant donate, you can do Something.

[section-upstairs]

I’ve been awake for so long and I’m so tired and I’m trying to understand that my worth isn’t defined by my accomplishments and that I’m a kind person who smiles at strangers and listens to anyone who needs to vent but sometimes I just really want that job. Sometimes, I really want that 4.0 and sometimes I really want that piece published and I know my perfectionism stems from shame but sometimes I need to know that I’m doing all that I can because I want everything. I want everything in the palm of my hands but it’s almost 5 AM and I can’t decide if I want sleep more.

#perfectionism #spilled ink #poetry #i’m so tired #writeblr #small writer #spilled thoughts

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Her moods fill a room the way the setting sun paints the walls orange. Some days I let her light prism through me, other days I let her drown me.

#spilled words #poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #writebrl

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Sometimes when you’re home, you bring me back words. Black pearls made of letters that you drape across my neck. Your phrases tighten at my throat until I can barely breathe as you pretend not to notice.

I smile because at least you are with me.

When you’re home, your voice gets sharper. You sew rich velvet into my skin, threads of syllables wrapping themselves through my flesh and around my bones.

I smile because at least you are with me.

When you’re home, you make me stand tall. Your comments force me into crystal shoes as I watch my toes bleed. I’m doing my best to make sure you don’t notice, but I’m realising that you probably have.

I smile because at least you are with me.

When you’re home, your words suffocate me. I’m gasping for air as my skin turns to the shade of the sapphires I didn’t ask you for. Your words grip me like a corset as your hands pull tighter at the strings and-

My ribs crack.

I smile because at least you are with me.

#poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #gothic #writeblr

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I can’t think. I can’t breathe without being reminded of you. I don’t keep your pictures or texts, I don’t even have your number. For some reason that made me believe I could forget you.

But then I’m eating hard candy and I have to stop because it reminds me of your collarbones. I try painting and before I’ve even touched the canvas, my overused palette reminds me of your skin. I turn on some music to distract myself but the rhythm reminds me of your heartbeat so I unplug everything. I switch off the lights and sit in the middle of my bedroom floor so I can see nothing, so I can feel nothing but even the darkness and cold remind me of your fucking words and I can’t breathe.

You are so much more than just a person. You are the smell of spearmint. You are the feeling of warm sheets draped over me when I finally fall asleep. You are the feeling of rain splattering my skin. You are every drowsy, cracking voice I hear. You are the sun, you are the fucking sun because my world revolves around you and I can’t think. I can’t breathe.

#spilled ink #poetry #spilled thoughts #i'm so fucking tired #letters to you