I wish I was an ugly octopus
I am sure life would be an epiphany
With ate or more helping hands
My tongue could live between the valleys grand
The forests would be rainy and wet
My torques lapping up raindrops as sweet honey dew
The twin peaks ***** over clouds so high
Why from above I am sure I would hear a sigh
For in the jungle down so deep
Lives the octopus who desires and weeps
Love decides who escapes and who he keeps

You're perfect,
        She said.

And I felt myself crumble
        Because I knew I was not so

You are perfect,
        She repeated.

Perfect for me,
        You are everything I could ever want.

And I felt myself
        Become whole again.

I hate how I am one of those people who work hard and gets mediocre marks. I absolutely loathe it. I am sad and devastated.  My soul is slipping away.

You tell me that you love me.
And I believe you.
But you only love me
As much as you have to.
You only love me
As much as is expected of you.

Sometimes I am jealous
Of my own love for you.
I wonder what it must be like
To be loved that much.
To have someone willing
To not only die for you
But to live for you.

I wish I could love you less.
I wish our love could be equal.
But instead your lack of love for me
Is matched by my undying love for you.
There is no balance between us,
Only one parched and dry
And the other overflowing with love.

Negativity swirls around me like the storm outside my door,
reminding me of all the things I've told myself before;
you aren't good enough or smart enough or worthy enough to make it,
everything I've said before to the point where I can't take it.
But then a thought appears that subsides all the self hate,
it's Francis Chan telling me Isaiah 55:8.

"For My thoughts are not your thoughts and My ways are not your ways.."
I criticize myself
for the things that God does praise.
He sees me in a greater light, knit perfectly together
and He loves me for the way I am, in any kind of weather.