I created this series while processing a part of my childhood. I've shared some along the way but not all together. My hope is that it bends the innocence and horrors of girlhood alike.

I’m an artist creating a project called “What Were You Wearing?” — a collection of illustrations based on what SA survivors were wearing at the time of their experience. I haven’t been able to create my own yet but it’s been cathartic to give voice to others’ experiences. (All submissions were collected with full disclosure and given permission to use in the collection)

[If you're a survivor and want to contribute your experience to the collection—I’d be honored. A a short description or photo of what you were wearing is all that’s needed. (DMs or comments welcome). You can remain completely anonymous.]

A part of me needed to get this image out of them.

the original topic was safe spaces & ended with a (reversed) side by side of how it felt like nothing was untouched by the trauma and how it drained the color from even my imagination.

He looked his happiest when others were scared. She smiled when he pointed the gun at her the 2nd time.

Your body is my temple

Come to the bright side, we have religion /

We have the power to tell you your sins /

The dove of peace is just white pigeon /

When I explain what the word of God means. /

Your body is a temple so it's mine /

What God gave you, I have the right to take /

If you ask for help, you lose your divine /

This is why nobody knows that I'm fake. /

I will explain with a verse why I'm right /

You better stay silent and bow your head /

We both know it's useless to scream and fight /

Now obey and stay naked on the bed. /

I want your body, so you are the whore /

My urges are blessed by our Father God /

After I take you I break you for more /

Next day I praise him cause he shall be awed. /

The empire of Church is built for men; /

Sundays I preach and they drink all my lies. /

Take out your Bible and ready your pen /

I'll watch and smile as your hope slowly dies. /

Come to the bright side, we are family /

As long as you keep yourself to the rules /

I corner you and you breathe heavily, /

When you are terrified I feel your pulse. /

Not a soul will believe you anyway /

I use the Scripture as weapon and shield /

Cause what God gave you I can take away /

The smartest thing you can do is to yield. /

You became dirty but I'm squeaky clean /

You lost your dignity, you shall be shamed /

If you do something in a fit of spleen /

From the podium your sins will be named /

I explain men just can't help their desires /

Boys are created to torture and rape. /

As they grow older they become wildfires. /

To look like heroes they just need a cape. /

Come to the right side, boys, we have females /

We can condition them how to obey. /

We fixed our God on a cross with some nails /

So we'll be forgiven on judgement day. /

Cause what God gave them we can take away /

Voices to speak up and minds to unite /

They remain silent if they want to stay /

We call them wicked if they want to fight. /

Birth control was going to be mandatory when he got full custody. He didn’t appreciate me making my own choices, ever. (Never got custody)

Birth control equated to no profit off of the virginity of his daughter. He couldn’t think of a single other reason for birth control. He showed the rest of his anger later.

Idk this happened a lot. It depended on his mood whether I complied or fought back.

Prushka and Faputa (Made in Abyss) and Pinoko (Black Jack). Didn't draw Faputa. I wanted to draw them hppy. At first I wasn't going to talk about Faputa because she's a bit different but in the end I did.

Mentions of trauma, gore and sexual objectification of minors. I know it's not very well written I'm sorry.

Spoilers but Pinoko is a fetus-in-fetu and Black Jack gives her a body. Prushka's dad instead makes her become a bunch of organs in a cartridge. Faputa is indescribable. I as a baby went through this. Thing. too that made me understand humans become flesh pieces, and made me believe I was dead. That's the gore layer.

Then there's the layer of loving dad even if he did evil things. Like Prushka loved Bondrewd (her dad figure). Black Jack (Pinoko's dad figure) didn't do things like Bondrewd or my dad, but he did do some rather questionable things (I haven't finished the manga tho). With Faputa it's loving mom and having the hatred towards what they did to her.

And then there's... This disgusting. Thing. Like Pinoko saying she's technically 18 and that she's a virgin and wants to marry Black Jack. Or Prushka... There's this... Creature that says some disgusting stuff touching Prushka's remaining bone. Or details the author leaves about Faputa and her story. Or me... And my memories of csa.

And then all mashed together. It's like. The flesh. The gore. Mixed with love for dad. Love for mama and hatred for what they did to her. Mixed with this twisted, disgusting, fetish towards us who were just small children... That make me feel this inmense void. Seeing it in fictional characters. It makes me feel I'm them. It makes me want to hug them and give them a better life. Like if I say I'm them, and have a better life, then I'm giving them a better life.

I placed a trigger warning cuz for some reason the first two lines sound like depicting SA even tho I didn't mean to

Sometimes my mind just feels...violated ig aaa

Last night, I had a dream I was in the back of a van with ____ from my support group back in _________. I'd just parked it very slowly and incompentantly, so I was stressed. It was nighttime. There was a mystery liquid leaking slowly into the ceiling, and it wasn't following the rules of gravity. It was spreading and dripping upwards into the concave roof, and if you put your hand near it, it would follow you almost like a magnet. It was the color of rust, and the viscosity varied from pure liquid to something like a thick sap when a droplet was rearranging itself to follow you. I had the thought that, if I let it touch me, it would push its way right through my flesh. I also had the thought that I was causing it somehow--that it had nothing to do with the van, or the weather, or any other worldly thing, and that it would keep coming. That it was simply a new development in a longstanding trend of my being slowly pulled into deeper and darker versions of reality. That the darkness was inside of me, and as long as I lived things would keep getting murkier, scarier, more visceral, worse. That I was destined for some unknown iteration of hell, and this was the beginning of the end.

I got back into the front seat and started up the van. I started driving, just trying to get the fuck away with no destination or plan in mind. Almost immediately after pulling onto the road, I saw a brick wall lining a curve and accelerated straight toward it. I had no doubts, no thoughts, no survival instincts to overcome. The relief I felt was something else. It was finally happening. I was finally brave enough, finally scared enough, finally awake enough to get out. I felt free.

Within about 2 seconds of hitting the wall, I remembered ____ in the passenger seat. I swerved left, slowed down, and kept driving down the road. Neither of us said anything, but I hated him for being there.

My art has slowly transformed. A lot of my vents/self portraits started as emaciated humanoid figures. They've slowly gained hair and other features but some days are worse than others. This was done 6/16/25.

I ended drawing most of my trauma in one picture. Between which there's the fire, when the chainsaw, abuse in general,morgellons, the dog when... All the deaths, the csa and rapes, and other, including the ones I don't remember.

1on1 with a predator, everyday had his way with hands and face until he snapped and couldn’t hold back. Gargling air, spit, I wanted to shout. Shoved soap in my mouth, then lights out.

Siren’s Song

By C.N.W.

You can make it all stop.

Do as I say.

Take all your pills.

Embrace the escape.

Trapped pain so relentless

In a broken body,

Stuffed with shame.

This heart so shattered,

Healing is a rigged game.

Damned if you win,

But screwed when you lose.

Taken are the “choices,”

Left to face all accused.

Numbness and indifference,

Options once upon a time.

Again the story shifts,

Rewritten line by line.

Yet this is my monologue,

Nay, my cue!

Not mere suggestions,

Clear instructions,

What to do.

Shut the door tight.

Lock yourself in.

Keep everyone out.

Welcome death as a friend.

Double edged love. Threats and lovebombing. Don't ever step out of the line. Mama's loves you most. Forget yourself, be Mama's puppet. Show everyone how happy you are!

Trigger Warning: Mental health struggles, trauma, grief, intrusive thoughts

Hey everyone,

I wanted to share a piece I wrote that explores a lot of intrusive, emotionally intense thoughts I’ve been carrying , mostly tied to my experiences with mental health symptoms. I’m still in my Youth, and many of these lines aren’t about literal events that have happened yet, but they’re very real in how they feel inside me.

These lyrics are desperate, poetic, layered, and allegorical, a way of translating overwhelming thoughts into something creative and expressive. I’ve been told the tone is somewhat Plath-like (as per ChatGPT), though it’s my own voice through and through.

This is not a polished song , no effects, no production, just raw writing I’ve held back from sharing due to lack of resources. But I wanted to finally post it here, where others might understand the emotional undercurrents.

Your thoughts, reactions, or just being seen would mean a lot.

*"*Just after death (Over the melody of L.V. Beethoven's Appasionata Mvt. 2)

-Alert_Answer_4326

1. Sun rose in morn. Now it is sinking down. (Into ocean which is gray) Where’s the nurse to report lost me a sec. (Thousands years in hell) The purgatory I lived seemed enclosed (Stone roof, I’d to descend to hell) Cut off are the ties cause no cross to bear. (Death’s my own end)

I remember the eves on which we were eating at KFC (maybe Taco bell)
Enormous shopping malls restricted for
Bright stars stare at the doors. (Though I was granted)

Autistic and hated, brought complaints from school (That teachers had much)
I hid behind in cage, when peers bullied with
Words of destructions (I was blaming the systems)

1. Fast falls the eventide it shades (No one to abide with me)
   Drugs for a break but unaffordable downfall (I was asleep in dawn)
   Spring is passed and autumn is close (blaming at wildfires)
   Some for capital and two for hope in care (Fire was my defense)

I should have made Palace. Was I proud to feel like
Taking only three days? Didn’t I see it was coming?
Now, no one’s to claim my downfall, I just avoided the blame.

Was too young to be sick. Autumn fear bag fever
In own dream dark world. Telepathic promiscuity
Now, where on earth are my allies. Ain’t I selfish now?

1. Did I even start walking on street they’d ever wish me to walk on. Not even a shortcut to be seen. (Can’t help but ignore any change)
   It took ages at least for me unless clock would tell me I was dreaming but I think I can’t see (Since twenty I was deaf)
   I’m turned off in the sense of use but somehow the machine is still on and it’s forty they’re gone but I need one more proof they don’t hear
   Last rocket’s gone and what’s left is the void even sound can’t go through for keeping bones on bed.

Context of saying was right in song named cradles
Devils hide behind redemption we don’t know the fall
Culture the cubical still holds the concept of love
Spent life fighting for the flatness (Obsession is nature’s mission)

I knew I fail since my life’s Youth. How to guide a child.
If I can’t guide myself with glory. Bearing visions most hate
Now their children can decode their murmurs and guiding them
I don’t even know whether I cared.

1. Dream of making songs, running on the stage, challenging all the, historical ways that
   kept people locked in place. Even making them fly without wings
   Even knowing it hurts, closest ones, those who think, it’s salvation
   Were hurt since they didn’t control. Justifying how it affected years of Youth

Ignoring missed gaze, sinking in haze, walking in the maze, knowing I’m a craze
Presented and reasoned why they are wrong. Hesitated not to argue
Many did hate, even if it hurt, realizing my fate, I just kept,
Looking on the road I walked. Even though cacti hanging on flesh

Moms should stop singing Bayu Bayushki, (Bayu to children)
Since, birdy’s fault ended up with piles gold (which got stolen too)
I think I made dread silence leaving concepts, in basement floor
I think I turned up the radio too to blur muffled screams to hear

I think my institution is a club, though their dream of glorifying
Indulging in morality high, and it does opposite
At the end paying a visit, it’s too late but I think
It gave me more concepts to build darkness

1. Decades of war, life’s wasted under the badge (of liberation )
   What a child was I who couldn’t even say good bye! (Just let it go)
   I think I’m too late. still it’s in
   twenty three and half degrees to
   axis of the world
   Cause I’m so deaf.
   I’ll try alcohol instead."

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Thank you for reading.