Thanks for choosing to join society
On a side note it’s a permanent stay
Where everything is fake
From the flowers
To her lips
So get comfy this is our routine everyday
But not too comfortable
If you do we will tear you apart
Layer after layer
And don’t expect anyone to hear your prayer
Along with that we provide our services
With deconstructive criticism
Upgrade to our premium
Where there are many helpful tips
To learn to love your body
But thats only once you've met our standards
And we see you paper thin
It can be slightly difficult
Living in this new world
With our expertise and precision
It isn’t meant for everyone
But since you've gotten here already
There is no exit out
So this is your new life
Until your very last day
When we finally realize what living is really about
Thanks for choosing to join society
Where its an artificial place to stay
Put on the fake smile you’ve mastered
And have a great day
Snips away at the inner bruising
Behind the eyes the windows are shut
And the curtains drawn
Run fingers over hidden ribs in the early morning
When fairy dust can decorate the pores
For imaginations sake
Morning skinny is now a norm
I plaster the walls of my subconscious
With posters of picture perfect shells
What they want
What you want
What I have convinced myself I think you want
What I want
What we want
I want to stop
I have told tall tales as unstable as my legs
Written them in invisible ink
Doused with sour lemon stings
So only I can see them
They appear before I eat
And in the quakes of my stomach aches
I know it is there to protect me
The most important parts of my body
The bubble which constantly pokes at me to ask
“what if there was nothing more than me
What if we couldn’t see
Shapes or sizes or colours or better
What if we couldn’t see pretty
Would that make you happy?
do I make you happy?”
There always seems to be open sores bleeding
Somewhere out there.
Men or women suffering, and sometimes there isn't anyone
Or anything to blame.
The heat is too much, and it often feels like hell,
And it's too expensive to turn on when it gets cold.
I knew this one guy who was self-conscious
Of his weight, his skin, his nose, his balding head,
And he asked often why no woman would have him.
He ended it one night after a bottle of whiskey
Got the best of him.
I walked to a church after my shift,
And lit a candle for him.
Then I wandered around the cold chaos
Until the sun came back.
I’m afraid of three things:
1 Being hurt again
2 It being different and not knowing how to act because I’m use to pain
3 What it will take not to feel this way
in all of my pointless comparisons,
I am self conscious of all
the ways I am similar to everyone else,
unoriginal and ununique.
To summarize: I am lame.
For who cares whether or not
others notice these things?
They are figments,
merely. But- I am aware
of my primary, incessant concern- myself.
I notice, naturally, with no sense.
It is totally normal
for me to engage in this self conscious nonsense,
I desire to be a robot, lifeless,
but what good would awareness do then?
Self conscious about a few loose bolts,
the whole circuit would short,
and that'd be the end of me.
It is the schism.
It is the juxtaposition
between caring about myself and about others,
of everything and nothing,
and I cannot find the balance.
I am a teetering pile of flesh pancakes.
Maybe I should stop eating, Say that I'm not hungry
Maybe I should fly to New Zealand, Say that I couldn't afford a ticket back
Maybe I should cut carrots, Say that I was hungry
Maybe I should take the bus, Say that I wasn't fresh
Maybe I should trip over a knife, Say nothing
- Freja Jep
I can't sleep
I can't think
I can't eat
I can't live
Or maybe I just don't want to
I can't play guitar
I can't draw
I can't edit
I can't read
Or I'm just not good enough at doing it
- Freja Jep
I wrote this on a sad day.
I like to play diplomat; it's hard to say no
Never the one who decides where we go
Affixed in place by the roots in the past
I hide behind everyone and choose to be last
So I also play victim more than I care to admit
Enough is enough, I've decided, that's it
I've wasted too much time on worry and fear
I think it's time to show the world that I'm here
i don’t want a title
i don’t know if i ever wanted anything
i don’t think i ever thought that i’m enough
i don’t really ever feel a thing
and i hate to repeat “i’m not good enough” ‘cause everyone’s thinking of something else and they think that i say “i’m not good enough for someone” but i actually mean that i’m not even enough for myself.
and the fact that i learned today is that i don’t need to be enough for me because i know i never will and i just have to accept that.
i'm not all that great at opening up
with written words its not that
it's still closed, kept in the expression of art
but when it comes time to speak of the real feelings
i shiver and shudder at the thought of my sensitivity.
i'm not good at opening up
because telling someone you care makes you weak
its a strong thing to say, but an easy thing to exploit
and meaning it mean that you can be hurt
and i've never said something i didn't mean.
so i'm terrible at opening up
because this loving heart is powerful
and i'd hold you to me, listening and keeping you safe
i'd leave myself open, to make you feel comfortable
never seeing the knife sneaking to my heart
i'm awful at opening up
i'm selfish with this compassion
i'm unable to brave the pain
because if i wasn't
who's to help me when my heart is in pieces?
Another piece in the same vein as the previous, but something that has plagued me for quite a long time. It's a feeling that I've yet to shake.