I wish I could stop.
I'm getting better
Alot better,actually.
So much so I'm questioning typing this.
My audience may not be as understanding as I.
But if you all can be raw
Without fear of reprimand
For your thoughts are your thoughts
And your feelings are your feelings
Why should I fear?
I need to get this out.
I have triggers now.
More triggers,great.
Once upon a time
Those triggers were normal
For us millenials.
A door slamming.
Yelling.
**** men.
Now,
It's scales.
Something I'd never feared.
It's the mirror.
Something I'd never wanted to break.
It's the the feeling I get
Right before I *******
My running shoes.
The feeling of being trapped
Into doing something I 'd rather not
Yet feel forced to.
It's innocent comments
Innocent questions
That while I was never huge
And matter-of-factly shrinking
Take me back to the mirror
To question any ounce
Anything extra.
It's clothes
I have so many clothes.
And I hate the vast majority.
They don't camouflage.
They don't blend.
They open the door for triggers.
It's makeup
Something I used to love
For years
That now
I question.
I wonder if it's to play with my features
Or to over-compensate for something I now know
I don't have.
This has taken me over:
These triggers.
And all it took
Was one response
to a question
I'd asked.
One comment that acted on senior triggers
So much so
that it created new ones.
It's funny how the mind works.
I'm not mad.
I'm really not sad, either.
And I eat
I told you all I'm getting better.
I'm just a girl
Seeking an attainable goal
Who unfortunately
Until then
Will have this looming
In the back of her mind.
And almost everyday
I wish
I never would've asked that question.
I'm sick of loving myself
Conditionally.
I want makeup to only be
For ***** and giggles.
I don't want to hide
In clothes anymore
And when I'm not hiding
I don't want to question my choices.
I want numbers
To simply be numbers
Not those individualizing
A jail cell.
I want comments
To slide off my back
Not slide to the dark corner of my mind
Where I place those things
I don't want to remember;
Into my subconscious,you could say.
I want to be wholly happy with myself
and with the things I used to love.
Emphasize,don't sympathize.
I promise I'm fine.
But isn't this a place of raw honesty?
Where even the fine can place their subconscious in text?
Until then,I guess.
I'm just a girl.

At times I wish I didn't have this power
The power to see inside your head
To pick apart your truest self
To analyze
To overanalyze.
To question,
I ask too many questions.
Like,
Is he sure that's just a childish crush?
Simple butterflies?
How complex are the butterflies really?
I see them soaring around you
And I see you
Shooing them away
As though no ones watching .
Is this smile
Forreal?
I think it is
I'm pretty sure my joke was funny.
I think I hugged him a million times over
But my super power
says otherwise.
Sometimes it says you're drowning
Sometimes it says you're on fire.
And sometimes,
It says you feel nothing at all.
I fear this is a curse
To read your grey
To read your mind
And still
Feel so clueless.

You see my petals
And yes,they're beautiful.
Their scarlet clusters
Their succulent aroma
Stand out amongst the others
My dew dropped leaves
Acting as the perfect embellishments
As though I wear the rain
As a crown.
I am a rose,
As you can see.
But do you not see
The dried earth beneath me?
Have you not noticed
The snakes round my stalk?
The shade atop my petals?

I am a rose,

But I have thorns.

You see petals,
Breathtaking  petals,
I see the improbable,
Made possible.
I see a rose,dying to live.
Dying to survive.
It's roots feverishly searching for wet soil
In the midst of forgotten dust.
You see dew dropped leaves,
I see a wall.
I see storms brewing
Yet the rose
Refuses to inhale it's waters
And so they sit
On her beautifully made petals.
You see a red,ravishing rose,
I see open scars,
For the public's eye.
Open,for you.
I found those patches of soil
I let the rain sit on my petals
I bled myself red

But didn't you know,

You lit my garden?

Haven't you noticed,
The dew on my leaves,
Evaporating?
Didn't you realize
My red
Has slowly began fading?
Haven't you noticed
The snakes round my stalk
And the spiders
and the ants
Slowly find refuge elsewhere
Refuge away from your glare?

My love.
My world.
My life.
You see me as the rose,
Didn't you know,
You are the sun.