1. Wrinkled Pages

skin mellows to the faint smell of soap, and everything becomes silent.
i hear nothing but the ice outside, and habitual buzzing inside my head.
too habitual to be dubbed a noise.


i spend my snow day surrounded by books and work.
and my thoughts, of course.


maybe i should start one last blog?
one where i try to substitute photographs with imagery.
or maybe i can take a daily photo to add unto short messages.


everyday. i must blog everyday.


something, to change the mood.
everything has been looking deep grey lately...
that must change... i must change
into what i presume is a better human being.


why not let others join the ride in this vintage convertible?
i attempted to make a tumblr,
sharing my hopes and dreams to be worn in, and lovely.
but no one cares, and it's a hassle to maintain.


so i shall more-than-likely start another blog.
a blog aspiring to be beautiful.


just like me, aspiring and whatnot.


done.

Once Again

my mom and i are on

two COMPLETELY different wavelengths.

showed her my friend's writing

which i found to be beautiful.

and all she was was negative diction.

she's very close-minded, mind you.

and is just a skimmer when it comes to reading.

she doesn't really think about what she's reading.

soooo, that could be why.

and it's ridiculous. she went on a 30 minute rant

about how "off" i was for being inspired by

"negativity"

when in fact, that poem wasn't giving off negativity

typical.

don't even wanna talk about it anymore.

she's ridiculous and bothers me.

And Again, No Surprise

-a lot of hair is coming out.

-no it's not.

-conditioning your hair 

instead of shampooing makes sense to me

-it sounds like it's worse, 

there's shampoos that'll make your hair feel like silk,

 you don't know about that.

you're a geek.

i am beautiful in my own quirky way.

we're just two different people.

can't change that

so i'll just ignore it.

i'm turing 20 next year and i feel like i haven't lived as a teenager

that's gonna have to change.

Because it's Not My Hair

i thought deeply on and off

for several days

about why i seem to care less about myself.

i think it's because i haven't found myself, yet.

a conscious struggle, i suppose.

it doesn't help when your hair is done up

in a way you absolutely HATE.

i feel like my hair does not belong to me.

it belongs to my mother.

so why give it tender loving care,

when i can't do what i please with it?

that doesn't make any sense, now does it?

i guess from there,

the hatred for my hair flows like poison

through my veins

and then i just don't feel like myself. period.

it'd bad enough that i don't know who i am to begin with.

but add the fact that i KNOW i HATE 

the way my hair is slicked back

with layers of gel.

*shivers*

i feel like someone else can take care of this body.

because it's certainly not mine.

Damnit, Tumblr

i'm trying to find more people to follow!

but you have to set up an error message, don't you?

Silence Speaks Many Volumes

a mind that believes only loud pride means love

is a narrow mind.

why must you know my interests

in order for them to be legitimate?

why can't i sit

smirking at the beauty of words

glowing with admiration

and desire

and you be unaware?

just because i adore something

and do not boast in loud, harsh words

does not mean, there is no love for it.

i can embrace interest

without you watching my arms

flex around what i adore.

i can love quietly.

i can glow humbly.

-cierra

REAL Beauty, So Step BACK

this photo is to my mother, who thinks people with too many freckles are ugly and look diseased.

We're as Different as Pluto and the Sun

so i start my drawing process

on my third art project.

and mom waltzes in talking about my two "models"

(aka-googled photos to draw from)

are ugly and kunta-kente-looking.

umm, excuse YOU.

i happen to admire their hair and shit.

even though you just LOOOVE the fact of hair that lays FLAT down

whether straight or plastered to your head.

I FUCKING DO NOT.

you're narrow-minded,

and that's very narrow-minded to say.

and out of ALL times,

when you want me to 

"stop talking about it and just do it"

you say NOTHING about the fact that i'm trying to study

except "i want you to stay off the computer for a week"

and she knows damn well we're not doing anything over break

my computer has it all

LET ME FUCKING LIVE THE WAY I WANT DURING BREAK!

acknowledge the shit you've been waiting for me to do!

and stop nagging!

wow. AGAIN

you have soured my mood.