Are you a grimy girl?

Thank you for finding me.
 You saw me, and now I'll see you.
 I'll untie the ribbons in your teeth that sew your mouth shut — that sit pretty with silence.
 That makes it so others can easily digest you.
 When will we learn not to be so palatable?

Sometimes I create and create, and it feels meaningless — like I am throwing my heart into a void.
 There is a scarcity in its significance.
 This will save nothing but me.
 It's all so fucking stupid.
 But I still create.

I am drawn to people's planets and seek to constantly understand the mind.
 To experience discomfort like it holds an answer.
 To slow down and whine to the walls.
 Drowning in the obsessive nature of my mind —
 a mere blank bitch face pounding with thoughts that make me spiral to tears.

It's okay to want to impress yourself.

I don't think I will ever fully understand why I do what I do or why I think what I think.
 I hyperintensify and overanalyze my feelings to escape feeling.
 I'm fully aware — or I think I am — but that's why it's harder.
 Can't I live in oblivion and feel the bliss?

I've been taught to internalize the urge to shrink.
 To fear space and take it as mine.
 To feel shame and hide away.
 Humans are voyeuristic — we watch, we learn, we are creatures of observation.

For this, let me reward you hehe.

Grimy Girl is a feeling and a way of being.
 A sort of refusal and acceptance.
 She both rots and breathes.
 A living contradiction — a way of being.

I started drawing myself in warped ways.
 A testament to the molded mush I see when I look in the mirror.
 A way to lean into my disorientations of self, and carefully depict the way I feel my hands disrupt the proportions of my arms.

I grew up in my life of contrast, forever seeking the balance.
 So I started to create a little world of my creatures that I hold so dearly,
 seeing my bone in every speck I spat from my pen.
 To bleed without shame.
 To play back into the dirt, desire, dysmorphia, and bite my teeth into the inner nature of self.

Deobjectify the self and exist merely as the meat bag you were born into.

She is ever evolving, and her center star.
 She reconnects with the uncomfortable and picks at your mind.
 Grimy Girl is about reclaiming control when it feels so vastly slipping through your wired fingers.

She allows herself to be free — and lick the ground she walks on.
 To live in her grime and not abandon it.
 She kisses her grit and continues.

A Grimy Girl does not judge.
 She craves the connection of understanding.
 I made her for me, but I’ve always missed you.

If you're feeling lost, a Grimy Girl will find you.


(Come and find me).



<3.





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