The words in my mouth grow stale and I think of Sylvia, and think of Woolf how they countered so much sadness to keep on writing how hard it is to write, like Adrienne, like Austen, and Bronte to keep going until there is nothing left but words and passion. Thank you for reading…
Free Hand #89 (What the World Does to Me)
What the world does to me, how can I be anything other than what you see? Thank you for reading my work! I hope you return in the future! -Alina
Free Hand #88 (Silence and Glance)
The space between the words a pause, that can silence or rip a apart, a person, with the same severity as a glance. If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing! I hope you will return in the future! -Alina
Thoughts on the Action of Claiming One’s Own Identity
I belong nowhere in this world because of who I am, what I am, and what I identify as. I am ‘unremarkable’ and a ‘problem’ to society. I am not my sex and I am not my gender, I am I, without and with influence from the world. I have taken what was forced on…
Free Hand #87 (Light turns me to Ash)
And light looks down into the crowd, and spotlights on your body the day that climbs up and into the mouth is regurgitated. Hold me down until my bones crack and break from strain, my blood runs runs, runs, there is nothing left of me. Just this light, my mind, my ash. If you’re…