Self-portrait
Splinter
Hope is a splinter, and if you know not what I mean, then you have never longed for something that caused you pain.
Photography by Abigail Saturday
Debauchery
There’s a place you can go for debauchery of varying degrees. And for the right price you can have any poison you please.
They don’t care for your reasons so swallow your lies. But if it makes you feel better, you can bring a disguise.
Photography by Scott Rust
Indestructible
Being indestructible did not mean I could not be destroyed. It simply meant that I will rebuild in spite of being broken. Similarly, confidence is not the absence of insecurity, but rather the knowledge that my worth did not rest on the foundation of my flaws.
Photography by Jon Hauge
Battle
She went to battle the way she fell into bed,
with passion and patience and an armor she seldomly shed.
Self-portrait
Agency
Demanding change was a terrifying thing. But it would be scarier still to wake up one day and realize that all these bars around me were not cages at all, but rather, doors I could walk through any time I chose.
Self-portrait
Skjaldmær
I remember who I was the day I decided I could do anything. I talk to her when I need reminding that it took conviction to get to who we are. She tells me to trust myself and be proud of the path that led us here even if it left us riddled with scars.
Photography by Scott Rust
Skjaldmær is the Old Norse term for a shield-maiden- a female warrior in Scandinavian folklore and mythology.
Saudade
I am terrified that it will always be you. I’m not saying I’ll never fall in love with another. I’m certain that I will, and she will be bold and silly and considerate and clever. But she won’t be you. And I am terrified that you are the feeling I’ll forever be chasing, the specter with which all others will unknowingly compete.
Self-portrait
Saudade is a Portuguese word that expresses profound longing, melancholy, or nostalgia for someone or something that has been loved and then lost. It roughly translates to “the love that remains.”
Asphyxiation
I'm trying not to wait for you. I'm trying to be strong. But I still drive past the places I know you like to go. I still hope for you in ways that hurt me. And I know we would have had to go through hell to make it work, but I would have befriended the devil if it got me a lifetime with you.
I had myself so convinced that all you needed was time, that I could be patient if it meant the possibility of you. But you had too much doubt in your head to make room for hope in your heart. And I know now that there was nothing I could do. There was nothing I could have said to make you choose me, but I will still care for you long after your fingerprints have faded from my skin.
I told you my secrets, showed you the soft spots I guard with tooth and claw. We treat each other like strangers now, and I swear I die every time there is emptiness where once there was your name.
I torture myself trying to find glimpses of you. I wade through old memories and delight in the way I choke and drown. Your absence suffocates me, and I am left gasping for breath in an attempt to be connected to you.
Self-portrait
Confetti
I had a habit of offering my heart to people who treated me like a museum rather than a home. They only ever wanted to look at me from behind the glass, and try as I might, I couldn’t stop giving myself to people who didn’t stick around. I couldn’t stop tearing up my soul and scattering it like confetti.
Photography by Jon Hauge