I'm slap happy but I bruise easily
People are funny. Even when they don't mean to be. Life is messy. Even when you have a clean up crew.
People are funny. Even when they don't mean to be. Life is messy. Even when you have a clean up crew.
Even in a room full of people I created, I am all alone.
I go about my daily routines and feel nothing but resentments threatening to choke me like a noose.
I haven’t done anything for me, just me, my entire life.
And now, when I feel like I need to break out and escape and LIVE the most, this is when I am standing at the crossroads faced with the harsh reality that I miss my opportunity.
I’m Fresh out of chances.
I’m shit out of luck.
And I am absolutely heartbroken over that knowledge.
I want to experience life as a whole.
Do things for me, because of me and with only my best interest at heart.
I haven’t been single since I was 16. And even then I took that for granted.
I needed to be someone’s girl to feel like I mattered.
Belonging and having someone love me is my greatest wish and curse all wrapped into one.
So, I bounced. I rolled. I changed dancing partners. I ventured where I had no business. I stayed deluded and tricked myself into convincing myself that two was better than one.
Now?
Life is too short.
Do I want to die tomorrow knowing I was never really satisfied with where my life was going?
All day, every day is a constant question.
Who am I?
What am I supposed to be?
Will I be okay once I am on my own?
And how I can cut myself free so that I am ONE instead of TWO with minimal scar tissue?
Even though I think it every goddamn day.
Even though if I don’t, I feel like my heart will break into a million pieces.
Even though it needs to be said.
Even if I know it’s the right thing to do.
Even if it’s setting a poor example.
Even if I practice it inside my head until it’s perfect.
Even if it will make me happy.
I can’t just say whatever I want because no one would listen.
I feel lost. I feel empty. I feel tense. I feel pain in my heart. I feel scared. I feel lonely. I feel ignored. I feel mislead. I feel confused. I feel isolated. I feel forgotten. I feel helpless. I feel friendless. I feel split in two. I feel angry. I feel like I could do no right. I feel like I will always wear a victim’s shoes. I feel misunderstood. I feel that nothing I do will ever matter. I feel like I look. I feel anxious. I feel like a lost cause. But mostly I feel like feeling anything at all is a giant waste of time.
The pictures only real if the person looking at it believes it.
It wouldn’t kill you if every so often you ran your hand over your butt to make sure your pants aren’t hanging so low that your hairy ass cheeks aren’t peeking at the world.
Matted ass hairs and pink chafed cracks aren’t sexy.
Thanks, bye.
I want to look in the mirror and be proud of what I see.
Time has ravaged me.
Nature has stripped the glow of youth from eyes.
I am no longer happy when I see my reflection.
I feel old and broken and beaten and cheated of the simple ability to be pretty.
I want to be desired and have another person look at me like I am the most amazing thing they have ever seen.
And I just don’t have that.
I don’t think I ever did.
And now as time races past me, I doubt I ever will.
It makes smart people feel less than. It makes secure people feel shaky on their feet. It makes happy people blue.
It is the one thing that crosses all race and economic lanes.
No matter where we come from, or what we have it is the one thing that everyone desires and hardly any one can hold on to.
And yet when we get it, we mistreat it. We take it for granted. We toss it aside and let it slip through our fingers.
It comes in a rush, or it trickles in when we least expect it.
It robs us of our identity or it changes us for the better.
It can cause us to walk tall or it can bring us to our knees.
It is our most proud possession or it can be our dirty little secret.
Love is weird.
