“My very survival is a spit on your face don’t fuck with a woman who knows her worth.”

If nothing else you have inspired me to write beautiful poetry if nothing else I bring words to the table with me.

Loneliness has taught me more things about myself than love ever has.

I love you I’m just trying not to wear my heart on my text messages.

We are survivors we glisten in the sun for all the nights I died alone I did not know another woman carried my song and it is beautiful now look what we have become.

We live in a society where I am a crazy bitch for going to any lengths to keep you away from me.

Writing spiteful poetry in a chapel I realized I have to love you no matter what you do.

I do not want my worth to be centered in men with fangs for teeth I do not deserve to be degraded in a leather seat my worth is powerful you will never take that away from me.

Can anybody hear me? Are my words going to waste I need to believe there was a purpose to all the pain?

Sex is not a map to me anymore I am more than my physical body.

I fought my way through plastic men the woman in me learned how to show her teeth no matter how fucking unladylike they say it makes me.

I imagine poetry to be a living entity in me.

It may have been mad love but at least it made me taste something even if it was blood.

I believe the ashes of my past life were stepping stones to becoming free.

I wish I could drink my troubles away but I can’t even do that right.

Why do you call me only so you can control me god I know you are lying but remorse sounds so good in your throat?

Ana gets fed off compliments I’m only as sick as my secrets.

There is nothing wrong with having competitive instincts. They are survival instincts.

Something as curious as the monarchy won’t survive unless you take account of people’s attitudes. After all, if people don’t want it, they won’t have it.

Survival is the second law of life. The first is that we are all one.

Human consciousness is just about the last surviving mystery.

Like a flower, that hides from the sun and discovers it still grows and blooms, I am learning that I too, can survive the dark, without you.

No democracy can long survive which does not accept as fundamental to its very existence the recognition of the rights of minorities.

Survival activates miracles when a person relies on the graces of hope and faith.

Women most certainly carry a more sympathetic heart in the traditional, classic sense the mother archetype. They have been given the role to carry the heart energy of the human community, whereas men carry the survival energy.