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You were enticing,

but the possibilities of you,

were gorgeous.

So here I stand,

matches in hand,

as a saboteur of my reality

for the sake of fiction. 

- inspired by ‘Untouchable’ by Wong Fu Productions // via @classicallydone

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Arden Rose for Flaunt Magazine

@ardenrose

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you loved me like a Canadian Spring.

you promised me flowers,

but you gave me sleet.

you whispered of warm showers,

but you hailed freezing rain.

i waited for the sunshine,

and you gave me clouds.

that is when i envied the birds in California

// you let me down // via @classicallydone

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rupi kaur // mother of ‘milk and honey’ and ‘the sun and her flowers’ // @rupikaur_

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one of my greatest regrets is watching us laugh together, watching us sing together, watching us live together, watching us love together, but never with each other 

 // thinking at night // via @classicallydone

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Don’t get too close… represent.com/store/orion

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my father once told me that security is meant to protect you from those on the inside because all breaches happen from those closest to you so when i hear talk to protect us from those on the outside and to build barriers and walls to save us from the outside and to remove those foreigners from our place and to stop outsiders from coming in to our place i believe that we forget that blood is pouring from our own hands and that we are dying from own self-inflicted wounds from our own people we are bleeding from back-stabs and gun wounds, overdoses and chokeholds and we still drag the hispanics to dump them in the desert

“America Explain” // @classicallydone // d.g.l // feb.19.2018

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the value of my brothers and sisters are nothing compared to the price you paid with your shiny plastic card for your shiny little gun and shiny little bullets, that so elegantly and gracefully cut through the air and snugly placed themselves   in the skulls of my 17 brothers and sisters

@classicallydone d.g.l // gun reform // feb. 14/ 2018

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Sometimes, The monsters come back to say hello. When I thought they had left me. They come back, And they love to make me scream. They love to see me dance, hanging from their puppet strings, Doing ballet as a marionette and clamping my mouth shut. No ears will ever hear my cries. I could write essays upon essays for all I had to say, but the clear, wire lines, still pull at my arms. The strings tug, And they tow, And they rip, And they throw me to the ground. But still no one sees the strings that I have hanging on me. My mouth is sewn shut in a nice dolly smile, And no one believes in the magic that keeps me on the puppet stage. How foolish is the audience to attend a show When their eyes are threaded tightly shut. Pretending to see To enjoy the show. A show they do not believe in. So When I am in my room, Twisted in a ball, With my whole body shaking, Still quite attached to strings, I will quietly remain. Because only God can see me like this.

“I Got No Strings on Me”

d.g.l 

- it’s a love song to my anxiety

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South Korean models and inspirations who I admire

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Toronto Christmas Market 2017

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How can you choose, to make me feel  like a real woman? One who is powerful. One who roars. One who is totally and unapologetically fierce. A woman. A true woman.  Someone who continues on with her head up high, with wings on her shoulders,  ready to soar at the blink of an eye.  That is a real woman.

“What Makes a Woman” 

(d.g.l) 23.11.2017

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for M

Dear Friend, 

Thank you for listening to me pour on the other end of the phone.

My grief,

My tears,

My dreams,

My fears,

and everything else I could have said are safe with your ears

and your heart

when I had nothing else. 

-d.g.l (Oct. 4/2017) 

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heartbreak

I suffered through a true heartbreak that had me staring at my computer screen in disbelief. I had never felt such an abyss in the base of my heart. It felt like I could reach into my throat and feel nothing forever and ever. There were no tears, although it felt like I needed to cry. I spent hours and hours on this single thing and I could not fathom that it was gone forever. Days and memories and tears and laughs were poured into this masterpiece. All that’s left was what I was able to salvage on a few pieces of journal paper and what was imprinted in my heart for memory. If this is love; I do not want it. 

this is the story of how all my poetry that I had written for the past 9 months got deleted off my computer and I could not recover it. 

it seems pathetic and innocent and naïve which is what I kind of wanted it to sound like. but I honestly felt so heartbroken, i didn’t know what to do.

write down your memories on paper hearts instead of screens. 

love,

d.g.l

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Brendon Urie appreciation! 

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Vintage Guardians of the Galaxy posters