when we begin to prioritize what we’re slaves to over those who give us their love and time freely, what do we actually have in the end?
posts
sexual assault, trauma, rape
more often than not, it isn’t anything like the dramatic depictions in film portraying an armed assailant and a frantic woman screaming or running away. it can be piercingly silent.
small beginnings
in a city where property seems like a pipe dream, this almost feels like owning real estate.