there are days where I sit and stare at myself in the mirror
picking apart every little flaw, every extra roll and
every bit that's not the right shape or colour
and I think, almost religiously,
that I am not good enough for you.

Becuase the truth is that I'm not.

You deserve sunshine and flowers on a summers day,
not a work in progress as dull as a winters night.

I say this to you and you pull your lips together with a sad smile,
look down at me
say
"But what if I prefer winter"

My boy that is not the point.
All I do is make you worry and I wanna be your sunshine but I just don't
think
i
can
be
that

yet

I'm a work in progress.
Incomplete
I was shattered just before we met and putting the pieces together
is
killing
me

And the things we don't talk about
things we shelve for a conversation in the
future.

involves things that only
"I love you"
might be able to fix.

through everything
recovery is hard
and each and every day is a choice
I need to make
to be better
and
I'm not always strong enough to make that choice.

I just want you to understand
my boy
my lovely amazing
perfect
boy

that sometimes I don't eat
and sometimes I want to die more than not
that anxiety is a being that rocks me
and sometimes I need the rush of pain
from scrubbing hard at my skin
or dragging a blade across it

it's not about you.
it's not something your presence is going to necessarily fix












But i want to try for you.
Maybe i can't be your sunshine
but maybe
i can be your cup of tea
your jumper
your girl
wrapped up in your bed sheets
on a cold winters night

you once said you had no problem
helping me pick up my messes
and if you stand by that

ill be your girl.
In whatever season you want me.

Bright light descending from the window in front.
Stepping outside onto the wet grass, to take a closer look at Beauty.

The Sun and the Moon at two opposite sides, at the same exact time.
Frozen for several mesmerizing moments.
Suddenly beginning to notice the gloating of the beaming stars.
Microscopic elements that make up our reality.
Glazing into space, unable to picture another galaxy.

Ignorant. Is what we must be to disregard the endless possibilities.
Seeming powerful in this world has no control over the Universe.



-FreeMind

Wars have a way of turning men
Into poets who thought they would survive to write about it...

You took my most precious gem away from me,
And left me empty handed.

You shattered my soul into billions of pieces,
And left me broken on the streets.

Your selfishness destroyed me,
And caused the remainder of hope to vanish into thin air.

I am decaying...

My only question is,
Why didn't you **** me instead?


By : FreeMind