helloautumnaudrey - Tumblr blog

[helloautumnaudrey]

She sits eating her breakfast

but inside her heart races.

Is it ever not racing?

Maybe when she’s dancing. When her heart is pumping

movement fueled racing.

That might be the only time

her heart isn’t anxious.

What is she trying to figure out?

Relaxxxxx baby.

I don’t like the word baby.

I’m not a baby.

I’m an adult.

Perhaps I’m both.

Perhaps I’m everything.

Perhaps I’m powerful

badass, diamond studded

queen of my goddamn life.

I’m loving what’s round lately.

My stomach.

My breasts.

My booty.

I cup them in my solitude.

I hold them gently.

Let them know they’re not

bad.

I think if my stomach could talk it would say:

“Stop being so cruel to me.

Why aren’t I allowed to exist???

to take up space??”

I’ve been demonizing the round parts of me and I didn’t even realize.

I am working toward being gentle.

But being gentle to the parts of you

that you want to despise (obliterate)

is harder than you think.

Try it.

Say,

“Booty full of cellulite,

I love you so much.

I’m here for you.

Thank you for keeping me

standing.

For catching me when I fall.”

[helloautumnaudrey]

Emily King Single line drawing

[helloautumnaudrey]

[helloautumnaudrey]

“Self Portrait Of A Sad Girl”

She feels her world is ending, or, her insides are crumbling, or, maybe they were built to be weak in the first place. She is a product of White Supremacy. Too bad that knowledge won’t stop her tears from falling when she eats a cookie mid-day while standing at the counter. Her stomach full, her heart racing, her face flush. She is a product of White Supremacy. She looks in the mirror, notices a quarter inch of chub latching onto her cheeks and she cries. She cries while police murder Black folx. How privileged. How sad.

[helloautumnaudrey]

Collage Poem