Episode 09 – #MeToo, Befriending anxiety & Biphobia

Tune in to Episode 09 of Achingly Polite where I chat about #MeToo, Befriending anxiety & Biphobia. You can find Achingly Polite on iTunes, Android, Google Play and wherever else you get your podcasts! Still waiting for Spotify to include me. Make sure to subscribe! Rate 5 stars and leave a review! Thanks again for…

Podcast Awards 2018

Hello lovely humans of the internet! Please vote for Achingly Polite in the 2018 Podcast Awards! We are in the Health category. I know I know, on iTunes, Achingly Polite is in the sexuality category but alas for the Podcast Awards, we are a HEALTH podcast. Please click here to vote! This is the link (https://www.podcastawards.com)….

Episode 06 – Infidelity, Domestic abuse & Squirting

Tune in to Episode 06 of Achingly Polite where I chat about Infidelity, Domestic Abuse & Squirting. On iTunes, Android, Google Play and wherever else you get your podcasts! Who needs Spotify anyways?! jk Spotify I luv you pls include me. Please rate me 5 stars and leave a silly comment! Come across some fuck…

Try to count the petals on a daisy

Try to count the petals on a daisy its pollined center the dust of butterfly flight Punctured to crown the most basic Queen of gardened lawn Prickling through my imagination elsewhere in my mind I play with those long gone and long for those yet to come Through paned glass, dampened cloth I still see…

Different creatures, you and I

We are different creatures, you and I. We laugh at different jokes and cry at different times. While we look alike, we’ll never be the same. Let us each go our own way and tread two separate paths. What is for you is lovely, but it mightn’t be for me. Happiness for all of us,…

My nudes

female nudity is acceptable when arranged to patriarchal standards for the male gaze. however, when embraced by the autonomous female it is brushed off as vulgarity. by Clementine Yost ©

As the calathea

Much deeper than fat and hatred of skin It is loathing of the whole self And so in love and ink I reclaim That which should, but never truly felt as though it were Mine Always one step away just out of my grasp For what is the distance between a trot and a canter…

Starting small, with only known things

for Imogen   Before the polished sand of her mirror Freckled and pale Limbs and moles as she remembered   Temptation in dismantling her self a specimen for dissection A tally of flaws   How radical would it be to love instead? Were that even allowed Unsure, starting small with only known things Affirming feeling…

These Sunday blues

  Earth and existence fenced by headboard and footboard Queenly yet contained she sprawls soft sheets carving grooves like sequoia lifelines A web her breast marked by sleep Printed Dampened cloth like quitting, manifest clings to her back in veiled despair A chrysalis Stuck between self care and self hate hips in horizontal sway with…