I’m sick of saying sorry
That word is dead to me.
Filled with half hearted regret and animosity I wish it out of existence everyday
Saying sorry for loving
Saying sorry having a opinion
Apologizing when there is no place for such words is bowing down to those that make you feel so uncomfortable you apologize for simply taking a breath
Saying sorry for needing the help that was offered to you because it’s not convenient right now means that offer was empty from the start
Sorry means I excuse myself from this conversation because I disagree and I know you’ll get angry if I say another word
If I said sorry to ever person I ever disagreed with I wouldn’t be here
Words without action are meaningless and sorry is dead to me
It died long ago
Stop giving other people your power
What is so wrong with being big?
Who made it such a crime?
I wish I could talk to the person that decided what sizes are okay
I want to ask them why
Why can’t I exist like this?
Why do you hate me?
Why won’t you reconsider?
I don’t know how it all started
Maybe it was the first time I was asked about my stretch marks or catching a strangers eyes judging me
One day hate just appeared without notice
Taking shelter in my chest
using my brain as a trampoline
It’s best friend shame came with it and I was trapped
They told me I wasn’t allowed to swim
that my body wasn’t wanted there
fat mermaids don't exist
Hate tore my heart in two and shame poured the lemon juice
I am a bitter lemon hearted woman who can’t live a day without anxiety
I want answers
Why can’t you be big and live a big life too?
Why can't I take up space?
I wish I could talk to the person that started fatphobia and ask them if they know what they are doing
Is it worth hurting so many people?
I want to know who told them it’s okay to act like this
With such anger
Such unreasonable judgment
Such unstoppable ignorance
Why do you decide my worth?
Who told you my body is your business?
Florence was right when she said happiness is an extremely uneventful subject.
No one ever told me being truly happy feels like you've reached the top
I have learned more from this world than to hide from the inevitable
When the world goes red and the alarms blare their songs we listen
Maybe it’s hard to write about being happy because when it finally arrives at our door we’ve forgotten it’s journey,
After All it’s all about the destination right?
Or was it all just make believe
Like that time you said monsters didn’t exist.
Happiness is a ship built to wreck and most of us are to afraid to go down with it
I want to see what becomes of those crashing colours
Do they collide and make something greater?
Do the dog days really end?
There’s a sign that hangs so far above my head my tunnel vision can’t locate it’s off switch
A glowing neon sign
People are encouraged to
Stay a while
Help yourself to whatever your claws can grasp
Leave when you want it’s nothing serious
the neon colours shine so bright I’m blinded
Can you help me they ask
I try until I’m undone
For some reason unknown to me
I hated myself the most
Every inch of my skin was disgrace to skinny tradition
A helpless fat queer from the start
A little rainbow sheep running through the world with a target on their back
I bare my soul too easily
I let people in quickly
I hold them for too long
I cast them away gently regardless of the cost
Maybe watching things fade is my fatal flaw
Maybe it’s a blessing
I am cursed to feel for every stranger
Fall in love fast
Like losing your breath
Maybe it’s a blessing
Maybe it’s a curse
She wants to be famous
but famous people aren't broken like she is.
she is too hungry for the wrong things
it could **** her.
nobody ever warns you about yourself
how the self destruct button can only be pushed by you.