I Knew My Worth (originally published on Blood Into Ink)- Kindra M. Austin

I knew my worth when I was hot as fuck and
boys all lined up to
pet my cleft at the blind side of the playground—
dirty fingers
mercifully uneducated in the intricacies of
female anatomy

I knew my worth when I was hot as fuck in
middle school, despite my flat chest and
highly guarded cleft—
face of Helen and an ass that wouldn’t quit,
by the gods, I knew my worth

I knew my worth when I was hot as fuck and
high school boys poorly educated in the delicacies of
female anatomy
petted my cleft with excavating fingers—
I sang hymns for my molested hymen

I knew my worth when I gave birth
two weeks before graduation, and I was in love;
my sweet babe, my savior—
she taught me the truth of my worth

Worth Wake Up-Rachel Finch


It’s time to wake up to your own worth.

I’m talking to YOU.

The ones that know the strength of their

Soul is enough to crush the limits our weak

flesh fears.

The ones that have known suffering..

Grief, addiction, heartbreak.

The ones that grew with trauma as an ally

and knew no friend as close to them as

their own hurt.

To the ones that think they are ordinary,

but couldn’t be any farther from it.

To the ones that bend their bones to help

another feel safe in their own skin.

To the ones that fight to survive,

in silence, in solitude.

I see you.

And you are stunning in all that you are.

You don’t see those wings beating behind

your back but you can hear them drumming

to the pace of your heart.

Beat them harder.

I have learnt that people think they are


That they will do anything to hide the

beauty inside them.

Completely oblivious to their radiance.

You are a world all of your own.

Every experience you’ve ever had is an

untold story.

Every lesson you’ve learned could grow


Every flutter of your eyelashes creates

ripples in this Universe and every time

you exhale, you breathe a stardust all of

it’s own into existence.

It might take a lifetime to recover, but

what better way to spend our remaining


Stop looking outside of yourself.

Turn inward.

Face the truth of who you really are

Warrior Soul and RISE.

Rachel is a writer that speaks from her soul, expressing her trauma and strength through her work. She lives with Mental Illness, refusing to let it define her and is mother to four courageous children. In her free time she volunteers to support people through their own experiences of Abuse, Mental Illness and Recovery at Bruised But Not Broken

The Gifts I am Given- Christine Ray

The mirror  that I look

at myself in is






It is as if these glass fragments

have writing scrawled upon them

in crimson lipstick

Words like:










Objects in this mirror

may be closer than they appear

sometimes they hurt

sometimes they bleed


People have been handing me new words

that they say they see when they look at me

This language is not congruent

with what my looking glass

likes to venomously spew at me

These are different kinds of words entirely













I am not sure what to do

with these foreign objects

I put them in a heart shaped box

for safe keeping

I like to take them out and wonder at them

tracing their curves with my finger


I am thinking about buying

new, clear mirrors

that surround me 360 degrees

and inscribing the glass

with these gifts of words

I have been given

that tell a different narrative of me


Or perhaps I will

carve them onto flat disks

of gold, silver and bronze

and string them into a necklace

that I wear close to my heart

It will have weight, heft

be an ever present reminder

that mirrors are not always

the holders of my truths


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Christine Ray writes for Brave and Reckless and is a member of Sudden Denouement.  She is also curator at Blood Into Ink and barista at Go Dog Go Cafe.  She is an aspiring badass.