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I am stuck in a long hallway
Of mirrors
Each one shows something new
And unfamiliar
I can't even tell
Which one is me
Because I have expectations
But I can't see reality
I wish I could just perform
A vanishing act
Because I can't stand
The image that reflects
I am done with seeing
Elongated arms and chubby legs
And that twisted symphony
Repeating in my head
The number on the scale
Can never get too small    
Cause the mirror looks the same
When I leave the bathroom stall
Always something different
I just wish there was consistency
Because these carnival mirrors
Have got me hating all of me
On body dysmorphic disorder and bulimia. I pretty much feel this way every time I look into a mirror.
i. There are moments when I think that I write until the words run into the ground. I reuse metaphors and recycle imagery until the English language is used up and nothing but compost. But god, it is like yours can speak life into being. They are a breath of fresh air in the cave where I’ve been hiding, and for the first time in a while, I remember what light tastes like.

ii. Every night I have tried desperately to feel something, anything, squinting at the ceiling to try to force a single tear out and pretend that I remember what emotion is. But you remind me what the ocean feels like on my cheeks.
And it is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known.

iii. Sometimes, the only reason I still believe in God is because someone had to have sent you here to save me.

iv. It’s been a really long time since I’ve believed a compliment. And it’s only because you have worked your way into my life well enough to know my imperfections and then continue to see beyond them.

v. I can see my future more clearly with you than with anyone else.

vi. I get into trouble because it seems I romanticize everyone who comes into my life, constantly thinking of them as a better person than they might be.
Except you. You are literally as amazing as I think you are. (And just as you are the only one who can compliment me, trust me when I say I know what I’m talking about when it comes to you).

vii. I swear, if my life ever flashed before my eyes, I would see only high school swim meets, camera-******* photo shoots, squirrel watching, Prom, late night conversations in the glow of the moon, and a brief glimpse of a girl struggling to read my clearly too-fancy name tag.

viii. I realized while writing this, that for the first time, I am actively trying not to be self-deprecating. I guess if someone like you can love me, I want to work a little harder to try as well.
You are right; we bring out the best in each other. For a while, I thought that I could only build others up by tearing myself down. But with you, I feel like we can take over the world (which we will). I hope I have loved enough to make you feel the same way

ix. Thank you. For all that phrase is worth and then a hundred times more. It cannot even come close to conveying what I feel right now, but then again, I was the one who was never comfortable with emotions to begin with.

x. I love you.
For my best friend.
 May 2014 Graced Lightning
r
The day was good,
the sun shining, a breeze
winding around the pines.
Two mockingbirds
were playing
guess me.

Cumuli loitered
above ground shadows
with cats jumping
from one to the other
in a game that only
they understood.

I felt the stirring of precipitate
motion on my cheek as a shadow
passed by whispersing the words
of an old song by Townes
about going down to see Kathleen.
I never meant for it to rain.

r ~ 5/7/14
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