They once said that "a piece of cake, is a slice at the beginning your life"...
But is that even true...at the very most end of the spectrum, from which your heart beckons too the very mind that surpluses the very objects (from which is can't find itself in the mess of truthful results), that begin to truly shame the result of even trying to piece things together, time after time...?
NO!
Which are exactly why things don't need to be remembered from right off the bat.
That's because a piece of cake is the truthfully defining reach from which we can't solve the very most bottom remedy from straight out from under our very heartstrings. Heartstrings in the very form of how our very life began. When you were too busy fighting objections too win over your very mind's eye (at the very center of opportunity itself)!
Basically, the very end results, begin with a single fraction of those very "to-do" list heartstrings...that don't truly account for the most interesting of logical finds. Simply put, it literally calls forth (the very claim of one's own arrival) at the very hands of remembering what it was truly like too live again!
Except, when you tasted the very cake that belonged deep in your own heart.
And a heart that is truly beginning anew, again. But with a twist, you see....
Nothing is really the same, after from which you taste this newly found piece of cake, that slices off one end of its own self...and disregards the rest, after the final aftertaste had reclaimed it's own glory.
This is mostly because you think you feel what the mind's eye REJECTS the claim like a chronic storm of results for the such displeasurable spectrum.
Now you know when you slice a piece of cake at the very end of one's own life, and take that slice at the very beginning newly found account...for it is a truly newer start at the very beginning of something entirely new.

Me, my body, my skin.
It’s all wrong.
The world told me to change my face, make sure nothing’s misplaced.
‘You should be perfect’
My eyes are an ugly color, my nose is too big, my forehead is too large.
The world told me to look through special goggles, look like a model.
‘You should be perfect’
My waist is too large, my hips are too wide, I’m not skinny enough.
The world told me to change the clothes on my body, be as beautiful as a poppy.
‘You should be perfect’
That dress makes you look fat, those clothes are too revealing, not that, it’s too boyish.
The world told me to change my personality, think with less intellectuality.
‘You should be perfect’
My ambitions are too smart for a girl, my attitude is too kind, too trusting.
The world told me to change the way I look through the mirror, see myself clearer.
‘You should be perfect’
My insecurities are unreasonable, I should be happy with myself.
The world told me to have body confidence, have more self-tolerance.
‘You should be perfect’
You are beautiful, you shouldn’t have insecurities.
All while telling me ‘how to be perfect’...
It’s all wrong.
Me, my body, my skin.

do we conceive
each other
in such
different ambiance?
like how eyes aim
to see souls instead of faces,
bodies and flesh
how different our concepts
of beauty would be
detaching away
from the standards
and norms of society
such appearances are neglected
interiors over exteriors
if only we see thru things
beyond nakedness
bound from expectance
when one
does not feel a stranger
of her own skin
— g.c.

"- then i learned that society is broken, not me."

Be badass
Be beautiful
Be everything
Be nothing
Be heard
But only speak when spoken too
Be patient
Be assertive
Don't be bossy
Don't get stressed
Don't let them see you crack
Be perfect
Be woman

To you, their rights
are a minority priority

You're entitled, spoon fed
Gorged with greed
a coralling disease

Dormancy
a fence that protects you,

but a barbed wire noose
                           wrapped
                           round their throats.

You're just another ring
in the chains of oppression

Everybody tells me to forget
But when I hear the song in your voice
I just can't get away from you
The feeling begins anew
That's how it was when we first met

Lovin' your skin was more important
Felt the tip of your tongue
When you had me all wrong
Even in your death
I've got life in my palm
But I just can’t get away from all these memories  

Every time I close my eyes
I wake up in a Paradise
Wishing someone else was here tonight
To push my desires
And carve out my dreams
To match the life  
I've been waiting for

There is no medicine for this kind of treatment  
Your face is one big memory
Your brain is like a eulogy split
into
All the things you've done
And it won't leave my mind

Your ghost is haunting me
But now it’s telling me that all we had
is dead

I wish for everything
To go insane
So I can rest my brain
Stay in bed
What you made me do
Was too much for you

I was too good to you
But it's not over yet

As this dream scene makes me
see all the things you've done
Once haunted by your darkened melody
All over again


I'm not here to stay in your waking mess
Not mesmerized by your burning soul
Your eyes so cold and alone
Even when I get to heaven
I know

Gratitude defines the truth
in My soul

I got out of that void a long time ago
Now waiting on the other side

Maybe one day I'll find him
People ask me how you live on
I tell em when you find true love
It lives within your blood
It lives it does not move on

Everytime I close my eyes
I wake up in a Paradise
Wishing someone else was here tonight
To help my desires come to life  
I've waited for so long

And all I can do
Is be true
Knowing you once made me feel
Alive

My heart has mended the wall  
And I won't stay to try to convince it to feel something else
That is inauthentic

As this dream scene makes me
See all the things you've done
Once haunted by your darkened melody
All over again
My standards have become all the more honest  
And I just can't wait to get away tonight

The anxiety of the unexplained
Is like an impoverished state
A mental ache
Caged alone
Sidestepping the back of an alleyway
pummeled in
cobwebs
Squeamishly awaiting the sentencing of a scarcity filled critter approaching its death

The existence of him; an individual
And myself
I thought I knew what I felt at the time
The excitement in my chest
at the very thought of speaking to him aloud
Even in my thoughts
In my dreams
The relationship between them
has been severed by it

As though it had been abandoned
By the riverbed
of endless possibilities
met with the banks of effortlessness neglect to which nothing happens in the end

I kept
waiting for more to flood my insides
in due time


It was not my energy alone
that was responsible for this repeated
Cycle
We were unprotected and unrenewed: despite him always speaking of protection
it was manipulation before any sort of new,
A blinded experience
That I did not choose to see

Only a man who is ready for everything, who excludes nothing, will live the best of relation
to another as something that can grow and remain alive

I willed myself to exhaustion

This existence of fear
as a large or small window depending on the day, I only knew pieces of that room, he showed me a heart contained by secrecy

Placed by a locked door
a slipshod floor on which he walked
up and down the steps of my attempted understanding

He had his own fatal security
And a dangerous
insecurity that created a madwoman out of me

I felt out the shape and the textures of his cornering
A room set up to be a closet without light
He said he is a prophet
Like God
But all he created was himself as a stranger

To me and whoever knew him

I did not want to be a prisoner.
But I felt trapped
Nothing could worry me
I kept going with it

I had no reason to
mistrust that world for it wasn’t against me.

YetI was alone and the dangers did I try to love

It seemed to me the most alien
But I wanted to trust him without faith.
How can that be? It was not in faith that I believed.

Perhaps all the wolves of our lives are cloaked
in false princes clothing
waiting to see us
even for a single moment
beautiful and brave

And they don’t even know why

“Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.”

Isn't it funny how being thicc with 2 c's is all that matters because its all that flatters don't dare be the flat girl with a little morals your weight goals should be all you care about because they will stare at you. If you have a little fluff you should huff and puff doing a plank cuz you wanna be hot stuff right? You should know being the town ***** is kinda cool she's got all the boys mouths dripping drool, she's a goddess how dare anyone be modest.