Talks With Him.

He's a blessing and a curse. Like he's the best and the worst. Given me sweet hurts...blah blah blah. And then he laughs; and I know he's alright; livin life. I ask him if he's happy and he gives me this silly little rant about how happiness varies and we cant...we just cant expect everyday to be smiles. I ask him "Why not ? Why are we settling for content with constant arguments ?" We both know life is better than this. He tells me "Life is about winning." See he thinks it's all a game and everybody's got their pieces lined up whether they know it or not. But he knows...he thinks he knows everything. And he feels he's got the upper hand like it was filled with mostly spades. I know he's tired of charades and lies and parades of "love". But baby; if this is your idea of love; I don't wanna be around for your hate that could probably break the gates of hell itself. See I've been up against him before. Gotten papercuts from playing cards and wet sheets from tears and late night freaks. But now I watch run through this maze; hurt and changed -- hopin to find her waitin for you at the end. I got my fingers crossed for you that she will learn to bend...for you; maybe even give into you; maybe even mean it when she says she's in love with you. But you smile and tell me to trust you...always tellin me to trust you. I'm amazed that I can even still believe anything you say after all WE'VE been through but its like now; I finally understand you...

Blah Blah Blah...

Dear You;


Thanks for making it this far on accident. You're amazing. But don't tell anyone I said that. Good things are coming for you. Remember to pay attention so you don't miss them. You're the one person I've met that has taught me so many good and bad things about living. You bring out the heaven and the hell in me. And I've had one hell of a ride with you; but I wouldn't change it for anything. I hate you ALOTTT; lol but you're smarter than people give you credit for. You'll find you're way; you're figure out what the fuck you're supposed to do in life. Now...go win or something.


From Me.

Something I Needed to Read.

I'm further in than ever before; smh...

In honor of National Eating Disorders Awareness week, we wanted to share a beautiful story written by a former TWLOHA intern, Stephanie Koszalka. Please read it and enjoy remembering that your life and your story are powerful. No self-determined imperfection can change that.

---

Dear Body,

I’ve always let some imperfection or another stand in the way of me seeing what you truly are, that you are beautiful. You are a divine creation housing the most valuable thing known to the universe, my soul. I’m beginning to realize that a person’s soul has the capacity to radiate light that transcends all the characteristics that I have been conditioned to believe are flaws.

You naturally tell a story. Your blue-green veins are like a map to where your heart has been and where it is going. The curve of your waist and the shape of your cheekbones tell a tale of heritage and ethnicity. There are crayon markings on the wall somewhere that has measured your height throughout the years. Always returning to the same spot to see how you’ve changed.

Your eyes bare resemblance to nature. They are a deep forest green with golden yellow sunflower flecks. Your faded birthmark, once beet red, brought me shame because all I wanted was to conform. It now reminds me of how unique you are and all I want is to be different.

Your body begins as a story but continues with new chapters throughout your life. Some are chapters of sadness and pain, others of joy, and all of growth. Each chapter a blank canvas meant to be painted by our experiences. Photos are memories but so are our bodies in a way that’s more real, no posing and no fakeness.

I’m realizing these things now, but I’m so sorry that I didn’t realize them before. I’ve done everything I could to destroy the canvas and deface and burn the pages of different chapters.

I’ve waged war on you before; used razor blades to feel and drugs to numb. I’ve used caffeine to stay awake and alcohol to sleep. Abusing the side effects of my prescription drugs like loss of appetite, to deliberately starve myself into making you skinnier.  I’ve spent far too much time on a scale that merely weighs your effect on gravity, not the depth of your beauty. I wanted you to look like one of those girls in the magazines.

But in the ruins there is still a canvas. There is still beauty in your brokenness. The faded scars show healing reminding me that even though I’ve been in dark places, I’ve survived and learned and become stronger.

Although the war is over, the world still takes its toll. You have calluses on your hands from me writing too much and concentrating too hard. Yet the words are beautiful and the studying is worth it. You have the ache when it rains from broken bones, and stretch marks from growing too fast. You have burns from jobs and scars from falls. But those experiences were worth it.  

Dear body, as I grow older I worry about how you will age. Together we gain wisdom and wrinkles, after being young and beautiful and naïve. The wisdom tells us that the beauty doesn’t subside, it only changes, and more of it comes from within.  So I won’t worry when my hair doesn’t look just right, or when I do something stupidly funny and emerge with another scar because you are telling a story. And what would I be without my story and my past?

TWLOHA

Letter to the Sixth of February

*a post that was written days in advance of the actual day; i waited so long to post. hesitant. and idk how i feel about puttin it out there but i know that when i wrote this letter, it felt beautiful; whether anyone sees it or not...and by anyone i mean, to whom it may concern...


To Whom It May Concern,

I hope this finds you in good spirits...or that it simply finds you.

Today is the 6th of February. And it's just another day. One that wedges itself between the 5th and the 7th. I wish it were important, that it marked some journey that we successfully made it through. Today should be the sum of great accomplishments.

But this day leaves a bittersweet feeling clouding my mind. Me secretly wishing that this day was filled with everything that I remember about how we started; a complete 180 degrees from where we stand now. And I don't wanna forget how your lips feel pressed against mines and other sweet parts of my body. The way it felt to reach out for a hand and feel yours slip so perfectly into mines. The safety and comfort that I could find with my face buried in your chest, inhaling your fragrance. I dreamt you this morning and Lord knows you felt so good; almost like you were really here. Like how I used to wake up to your face next to mines. But today, I stared into the empty space that used to Yo Side of the Bed and hugged your memory. It's not as good as being laid up in your arms; caressing your smooth skin, rubbin down your back and your stomach while the sky cries cold tears that piles into white mountains; envious of the warmth that the two of us had found in each other.

Warmth.


There's nothing like the way you smooth found your way into my warmest parts; the sacred place between my legs, and my heart. Feeling you got my heart racing, skin tingling, blood pumping, moans escaping, grabbing the sheets, the pillow, the mattress...scratchin you up. Lips like heaven, body the perfect piece to the puzzle that is me. Ughhh, I thought you were the shit.


So, we've shared amazing moments. And of course the not-so-amazing. Somedays, I'm still beyond angry with you. How stupid you've been, how stupid I've allowed you to make me. Fools falling in love. I've cried. I've wanted to hurt you as bad as you've hurt me; salty cause, I don't have it in me to cause you pain. Been forced to sit idle while people have bashed you; sorta feeling like they're right but praying that I knew you better than they did and you would show them just how wrong they've been. The days that hurt the most were when you were a stranger to me; when I knew nothing of you, or what you've been up to, or anything about you, or that someone knew you better than me. What the fuck? I've been all up, down and around that body; spent hours tryna get inside your head, carve a space out for myself in your heart; only to watch it all fall apart...or someone else get in easier than me.

But I remember you, love. Most definitely. Not just on February 6th but everyday that my hand doesn't find yours. Miss you, love you...Happy 6th of February.

--Iyana ♥

P.S. And if you ever find someone new, just know she better be good to you cause if she isn't...