Life is difficult, incredible, unimaginable, scary, interesting, questionable, so many things.
Learn to Love it ♥♥♥
I always wore a size 7.
My ass was to big and my belly to fat.
I complained about the girls that
wore a size 1. They were where it's at.
I now wear an 11
and buldge around the top.
I believe they call it a muffin
It doesn't want to stop.
I look back at where I was then.
I think to myself who is that beauty
and where has she been?
I see yes it's me, what a cutie!
So, someday I will look
and see the 11
I will say to myself
I must have been in heaven.
It's not true I will remember
I tortured myself
With doubt and dispair
over my ass and and my looks
and my waist and my hair.
So I had better stop now
Before it's too late
to learn how to love(me)
and forget how to hate.
Spring ,Depression, and a Little Paranoia
Spring is here. Almost summer. I have to shed my clothing. I can't hide myself behind layers of fabric and keep what I have felt all winter long inside.
When the first warm and sunny day comes, I am paraniod and depressed while it seems everyone else is happy. They are all outside, shedding layers of clothing and ready to bare all. They are walking with friends, partners and thier dogs. Children are running, laughing and screaming in joy.
I, on the other hand, am looking out the window and listening to all of the movement in dispair. Oh, how I wish it would rain. Please get dark clouds. Just one more day. Maybe this will be the only warm and sunny day and tomarrow will be the way it is supposed to be, for me.
I don't want the world to see me and I don't want to see the world. I want to stay in my dungeon, my cocoon, my coffin, my hideout. I am not even really safe in here sometimes so how can I feel any safety out there. Everyone will laugh and give me dirty looks if I go out there. They won't say hi or smile at me. There is always someone ready to offend me in some way and I just want to get back to my secret room.
The fact is that I am always depressed and paraniod. At home I am comfortable being this way. I can be this way all day long and there is no one to bother me. Only when someone knocks, then I get very scared. My heart rate climbs, I can feel my senses fine tune themselves. I don't have to answer the door though. I can just wonder who it was. I can pick out a few names and think it was one of them. A few minutes later I don't even remember that someone knocked.
I have insomnia. I am tired throughout the day. I could sleep all day if I did not feel guilty or have to do things for others. Then night falls, everything gets quiet. People get all ready for bed and sleep so they can go out into the new sunny day. Not me though. I am afraid to go to bed. Why? Because tomarrow is going to come. Another warm day where I will be called to go out my door, my sanctuary, my hospital mental ward, my tomb, and be naked again.
