The human body is a form of art
that only the open minded can understand.
Each one is unique and different in it's own way, and **** I love that.
But yours, oh god yours is so much more than art.
It is beauty found in simple things like the cracks that line the wall of my room.
~o.b~

My short legs can only
carry me so far,
but everytime they
bring me back to you.
You're like my favorite sweater,
you keep me warm,
you let me hide,
you keep me safe.
You're my home.
-o.b.

Please remind me
that I am more than
a speck of dust
on your book shelf.
Please remind me
that I am one of those
hundreds of books
that line your shelf.
And please tell me
that I happen to
be your favorite.
-o.b.

I question
my exisitence
on a daily basis,
yet I still don't
know my
purpose for
walking such a
hateful planet.
-o.b.

Last night, I saw you walking by yourself and I couldn't help but notice how lonely you looked.
I screamed out your name, but the wind was howling and you couldn't hear me.
And I tried my best to catch up with you, but God cursed me with short legs and I couldn't reach you in time.
And now you're alone again,
and so am I.
-o.b.

I often fear the idea of being forgotten,
being pushed onto the sidelines, out of sight and out of mind.
I fear that no one will say my name as if it were a song that echoes through my very soul.
And they will not tell the story about how I got the scar on my cheek or the time I nearly drowned in the pool, because I will no longer matter.
I will no longer matter one day- and that scares me.
-o.b

When I feel sad, I hide my hands in my sweater.
When I feel alone, I hide myself in my blankets.
When I feel hurt, I hide myself in the warm water of my shower.
When I feel nervous, I hide my face behind my hands.
and when I feel mad, I hide my screams in my pillows.
-o.b