About “Miscarriage”

I was very surprised to see the amount of response I got when I posted the latest of my literary ramblings on Sudden Denouement collective.

Yes, I am part of a collective now. I’m honestly not sure how this happened but it’s a huge deal for me to be recognized by other writers. I’m honored beyond words.
You can check out my post here: https://suddendenouement.com/2016/12/12/miscarriage/
And check out the other works as well. All the writers are insanely talented.

After everything this post brought me I feel like saying a few words about its origins.

I’m working on a novel. And it’s hard. Writing is not always a rose garden, as I’m sure you know. But this is beyond anything I ever experienced. It’s my journey. My odyssey. It’s beautiful, but damn if it doesn’t hurt like hell too!

My continuous self-doubt is slowing my progress. Some people find this weird. Yeah, I’ve gotten this far. Yeah, I work hard and yeah, I’m determined. And hell, the publisher bloody well called me, expressing his interest in what I’m writing.
So what’s the fucking problem?
(Sorry for the bad language.)

Well after all of this, I still don’t believe I’m good. Quite the opposite. I think I’m bloody worthless. I don’t believe in myself. I don’t believe in anything I accomplish. No matter how hard I work it’s never enough, I keep on judging myself because I could have done better. I’ve worked myself to the point of exhaustion, mentally and physically. I was on the breaking point.

That’s when I wrote Miscarriage.
Hastily, boldly, and pouring my anger and disappointment into each word. If you didn’t figure it out already, the poem is about my fear of failure. The deformed fetus represents trying to create something and realize you’ll never make it.
“Stay dead” is what a part of me wished right then. For the dream to stay dead and not come back to haunt me again. In that moment I wrote it I felt like the idea of writing my novel had forced itself into me, and wasn’t something I had decided for myself.
Maybe not even something I truly wanted.

Of course I realize it isn’t true. I do want it. And taking this journey was my conscious decision, no one else’s.

So what am I going to do now? Well, I’ll pick up my writing where I left off. Greet my anxiety and self-doubt as the old, well known friend it is and continue despite it. I’m not done here.



On my experience with being a girl

“You’re beautiful,
but you are cold,” he said
I replied,
“I am what I need to be”
A caged animal who loves in secret
Trying to hide underneath my own skin
All tucked in,
like a larva in a chrysalis, refusing to turn
Even the razors cannot sweep my conscience clean
And the sink’s always full of hairs

I learned to cut my wings with a pair of nail clippers
(They looked awful, sticking out of my shoulders)
I listened to tales of princesses in need and wondered
Did I have to be rescued, too
Boys calling me ugly words
I’ll bite their heads off
Alone, in my room
I cry over the taste of their blood and loss of innocence

I tried many times to breathe under water
Tying myself to the bottom, waiting for a mermaid tail to grow
But fins are no good on land
So I had to crawl my way back home
each time

Just a little poem about something important to me. Inspiration for this struck me when I saw the art of Alice HJ, as seen above.

Quick update


#1. I got all spooky attired today. It was fun.

#2. I’m still completely obsessed with The Evil Within.

#3. I’ve cut down on medication with my doctors approval, so now I have to work harder to fight the compulsory urges. I hope I’ll make it.

#4. Writing’s going well and if I can keep my schedule I’ll be able to send it to the publisher soon.

#5. Happy Easter!


Page remonstered


Alright, so my blog has a new look! I’m still finishing the details and going to be sorting my posts into different categories. Also the blog name has been changed to Malicias Malebolge, but the url is still the same (won’t bother fiddling with that). I’ll be posting pretty much the same things as before, poetry, drawings and sketches from my minds sanctuary, and an upcoming chronicles called Morthanatos’ Merry Monsters.

Take care everyone!


No more hiding!


For as long as I can remember, my hair has been my shield. When I don’t want people to see me (which is pretty much all the time) I lean my head down and let it cover my face. Simple.
Particularly my long fringe has functioned as my main “security veil.” For more than ten years I’ve kept it covering my (in my opinion) ugly forehead, my eyebrows and part of my eyes. It may seem like a small thing, but for me it has been VERY important in order to feel safe.

Just now, I decided to make a change and spontaneously cut my fringe short. Daringly short. Extremely face-revealingly short. I also went to the hairdresser and asked her to cut away as much as she wanted of my thick, evenly long hair. Crazy! I haven’t dared to cut my hair since forever. And I ended up with a free, thicker-looking hairdo that I really love. Still getting used to the fringe… what do you think? Feel free to tell me.

Anyway, if I can get used to keeping it this short then I can finally get that eyebrow piercing I’ve wanted. (And dare my other fear – needles.) And the next step would be cutting down on my medication, something I’ve wished to do a long time. Even though I love my medicine and has had great help of it, I wish to be set free and manage on my own.

So this is it. No more hiding, I’ll try to wear my face with pride and hopefully make a change in my life.

Malicia Frost

Ps. The text on my shirt reads “Don’t steal my wifi”. *laugh*

I’m alive

Just in case any of you are wondering. Christmas has been quite a roller coaster ride, with moments of sheer joy as well as a couple of deep dark downs. I’ve struggled with self-loathing and destructive urges, but I’m glad to say I won the fight. Now it seems like I’m getting control over my life again (if only I could correct my sleep schedule, though).

I haven’t had time to write anything here since I got a mail from the manager of the publishing house (!!) asking me to send him the latest draft of my novel. Can’t believe he remembered me and even bothered to write to me. These are exciting times.

Malicia Frost