I feel a hole in my body. In my gut. I can hear it. Stinging.
Ripping slowly throughout my chest.
What purpose do I have here? In this world. Almost meaningful. Maybe not.
I don't know how to help myself. How to fix myself.  
Will I ever know?

I told my love recently that he never writes for me
He claimed it was because of his insecurity
The English language is complex
I agree, but it requires thought and what comes next
So my love then began to think
And with his words he made my heart sink
In a way that was full of emotion
And it renewed my everlasting devotion
He wrote for me
A piece of poetry:
"Your eyes sparkle,
Sparkle like a thousand fireworks,
and I marvel like a little kid,
Looking into your beautiful green eyes
like a lushes forest.
Hoping to get lost with you in the wild"

Awwww, you're so pure?
Why,        IS it
I                           insist                               upon
complimenting
my                   friends
and they cannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnot
take it
at                all?
I'm dubbed                                   pure
                                          innocent
                                   sweet
                                         How
                                  come?
Am
    I
      just
            a people
                      pleaser?
Terrified                            of                    social       rejection
so I try too hard
to be
that                                                 "nice"
girl
But,                      is she me?
Actually?
                                Cause,
                                          I do see the good
                                                               in others
                                         And the
                                                       bad
            Letting one out
Keeping the other
In         secure
In
Criticisms layered,                       with little
flowers
       Revealed
                   as soft
and mushy
            No hard edges
    Overly soft,
As if one               were                     protecting                  
                             a child





But,



Is
  It
    Me?

Why is perfect the goal right now?
Perfect hair, perfect house, perfect waistline.
Whatever happened to just being happy...
Accepting the good, the wonderful, the fine.
There is so much more to life...
Than things, appearance and stuff.
If you spend your life looking for perfect...
Nothing will ever be enough!
Do what makes you happy...
Don't think about what they will say.
Who cares what other people think?
This is your life, live it your own way!
There is no such thing as perfect...
It's untouchable, unreal, untrue.
Do your best, be your best...
Be kind, be nice, be you!