#workingout
Announce that you love me. At least to your best friends. I can’t bear to think that I’m not your trophy to be proud of. I can’t accept that my ray of light becomes dimmer day by day. I can’t stand the thought of sitting like a tomb in your soul, camouflaging with darkness that engulfs all sense of love. I can’t swallow the fact your face didn’t spark when you said I was your everything. I can’t comprehend when my existence in your world ain’t shimmer like a dewdrop catching the sun.
Announce that you love me. At least to your siblings. I don’t want to stay timid in the darkest compartment of your heart. I refuse to admit that you ignore me in four days — summer, autumn, winter and spring; three days — yesterday, today and tomorrow; two days — day and night; one day — everyday. I deny that you don’t feel immortal anymore when I linger around you. I oppose the idea of maybe your love to me is paperweight.
Announce that you love me. At least to your heart. Do my picture still be your favourite wallpaper? Do your heart palpitates everytime you hear my name? Do my warm embrace puts an end to your insecurities? Do your mind still replays our memories of spending time together when sun came out, and we were miles away from anywhere? Do. I. Actually. Exist. In. Your. Universe?
I never doubt my love to you. It is you who should stop underappreciating me, and start loving again.
Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 6:43 AM UTC
You look in the mirror and know bloating is your enemy
You have people tell you, you are too flat
You are not skinny, you are not fat
When food can be your frenemy
You put in all this work
You have people tell you it will never be enough
You are not strong, you are not weak
When your body can call your bluff
You always try and stick to the rules
You have people tell you that you could do better and include this and that
You are not memorable, you are not forgetful
When your diet looks like something you do not get at
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 11:47 AM UTC
Looking in the mirror wishing you could change
Knowing it will be a process, but results are in range
Feeling like you cannot breathe, telling yourself it's okay
Touching your heart and knowing it will push you, and stay
It is okay to feel tired, to feel worn down
That does not mean give up, that means stick around
It is hard to be in a newly routine but your mind is there to help
Do not let the darkness take over for even a second
You may want to quit, but today is not the day
Get up and realize your worth, this is for you and you only
So lose your energy in something that will make you better
It is better to have a healthier half than to be a shadow lonely
Stay Strong
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 3:38 PM UTC
I use the rage to fuel my fire
I think about my past desire
Despite my love gone lost
It pains me with such cost
I fuel my fire with images of us
I remember all the pain and mistrust
Despite my pretentious past
The dumb bells in my hands, I grasp.
I workout to my own tune.
I'll leave you behind, like apple left zune.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
I've been single for a while and it's going really well.
Like, it's working out.
I think I'm The One
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 11:52 AM UTC
Like all others, I hated high school.
It was a scrawny waif that I remember seated at the front of the class.
I raised my hand at every question to endless ridicule,
and people whispered I was weak for trying to be "such a ********
Now people think I lack brains because I own a barbell and bench.
What they don't know is that it's all an extension of my first love: Science.
Every morning, I don my hooded polyester lab coat.
I write theorems in drops of sweat on a rubber padded mat.
I experiment with the practicality of the theorems I wrote;
I know my hypothesis is correct when veins bulge and muscles catch.
Breathing shallow, in ragged determined gasps of air,
I put my theory to the test. Veins bulge, muscles strain.
There is no joy like the joy I know when I find my theory correct. I call it
The Warrior Poet Principle: One can in fact have brawn as well as brain.
I've accomplished the task I set myself in high school's lonely halls,
I vowed that I'd never be that weak waif again.
Hiding bruises from pimple faced tyrants who had me by my *****
I persevered, and I grew my thews and thesis in twain.
Now by neither tyrant nor textbook will I ever be chained.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
when i run
i imagine an airport
and you at the opposite end with open arms
and me running towards you
longing for your embrace
when i squat
i imagine a burning house
a heavy wooden column on my shoulders
and you between my legs
your life being mine to save
when i do pull-ups
i imagine a steep cliff
and your face meeting mine
drawing closer, closer, closer
at my every ascent
when i deadlift
i imagine you trapped
underneath the belly of a car
with you looking for me to lift the trunk
and allow space for your escape
when i bench press
i imagine myself (this time) trapped
underneath the belly of a car
with me pushing the car above
to be able to return to your company
when i do curls
i imagine you a mile away
a rope attached to your hips
and with each tug i repeat
you grow closer by a couple of feet
when i shoulder press
i imagine a promise of a good shoulder rub
courtesy of your hands
once i squeeze out those
last.
three.
reps.
and when my spirit is spent
and exhaustion takes over imagination,
i shall revel in the endorphins pulsating through my veins
and pay gratitude
to my iron muse,
my unseen lover.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 7:40 AM UTC