Sometimes everything in real life can be going really great but in your mind for some reason on a night when you're alone everything seems to be crumbling.
On a friday night like tonight.
When i went home and thought about the bonfire I was invited to thought about friends thought about how I had no idea what my relationship life was right now thought about how it was so frustrating that I couldn't find my glue gun for weeks
binge watched tv
ate
put away clothes
found some pictures of myself, pictures of an insecure youth who hated her body more than anything in the world. a girl who cried. a girl who was disappointed that she didn't look like barbie now that she had become a teenager. a girl who wore a lot of makeup to look pretty and cover all her acne. it didn't cover the acne just gave her a little barrier from the world. A girl who wore push up bras and straightened her hair every day and sometimes wore a bow in it. she hoped that boys would notice her or like her. A girl who was upset when they didn't. A girl who had no idea she liked other girls.
put on some lipstick, smeared on black eyeliner, patted on blue to my eyelids, put my hair in a cheerleader bow
tore apart two closets trying to find my ******* hot glue gun
more tv
thought about how i felt dehydrated thought about the mess i made from looking for the hot glue gun considered cleaning it up considered texting someone
glue gun
glue gun glue gun glue gun
This poem details the crumbling and out of control feelings which can arise from one simple thing going wrong. This is written in my stream of consciousness and shows the obsession and fixation on the glue gun. Thank you. x