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Unspoken.

All those words unspoken,
the one’s that never quite got out.
These thoughts that floated,
every time your name would sprout.
Years later, you are gone,
but these feelings still alive.
And she screams the words in a hopeless cry,
in hopes her heart might revive.

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Leaps.

It was this feeling inside of me, this feeling I believed in.

I took one leap after another, as I went for the win.

So many things came in between us two,

But through it all you held my hand and I knew it was true.

That one feeling changed my entire life.

And you confirmed it the day you asked me to be your wife.

That feeling was love.

I Am Enough.

I have tan lines.

I have pigmentation.

I have stretch marks.

I have no thigh gap.

There are days where the reflection in the mirror is unsettling.

And I know my insecurities.

So, you, whoever you may be; a friend, a lover, a stranger.

I don’t need you to tell me my lacking. I know them by heart.

If I start to change in order to meet your standards. What can I do to meet the standards of the millions with opinions?

I know I am flawed.

I know every inch of myself.

I am a canvas filled in by imperfections.

And I am enough.

 

Never After.

She grew up reading fairy tales, with happily ever after and the hope of a perfect life.

So, when she met him, her first love, she did what felt right, she have him her soul. Hoping they could be one forever.

But he wasn’t interested in that, he looked at her body, he memorized her curves. And once he’d gotten them, he disappeared.

And her soul returned shattered in a billion pieces.

And as life goes on, there came another into her life, and once she started to feel the same things she had before, she put up a wall.

She gave him her body, but never her soul. She never again lent another her heart, even when they wanted nothing more.

And in the end, she was alone, her soul dissipated, her heart hardened. And there she lay watching others living their happy endings, while nearing her own.

 

Better.

I can’t help who I am.

I can’t help the choices I make.

I know that I am no victim; I know I could try harder to make you proud.

All my life, all I’ve ever wanted was to hear the words “I Love You”, come out of your mouths.

So, I did what you asked, I worked till I was out of breath.

But all my hard work was in vain.

And eventually, one day when I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t recognize the person staring back at me.

While trying to find my way to you, I lost myself.

And so I gave up my quest to make you, my parents proud. I gave up.

My actions changed once I made that decision.

I tried new things; I unleashed my curiosity to see the world, to experience, to feel.

And though I’m that much closer to being myself, I’m that much farther away from you.

I’m sorry. But I am better now than I was before.

 

Thank You.

Since you’ve been around I smile more than I used you.

Since you’ve been around I breathe easier than I used to.

Since you’ve been around the tears flow less than they used to.

Since you’ve been around I look forward to each day.

Thank you for being my ray of sunshine.

Shame.

Is that really the best you can do?
You’re barely average.
Are you sure you want to eat that?
You should do something about your face.
Why are you even alive?
All these statements and questions.
All these words, I endured.
All these voiced thoughts and opinions I acted indifferent to.
Till I realized no matter what I did, those words wouldn’t disappear from within me.
Nothing to make go away the humiliation I felt when I looked in the mirror.
As I was sinking in self hatred edged on by waves of depression.
I walked over to the ends of the waters of misery and drowned peacefully.

Rain.

The most vivid memory from her childhood was rain.
She’d always felt the droplets upon her face. And when she’d opened her eyes, she remembered the lips of her mother curving into a strained smile.
Soon after, as her mother dropped, the rain stopped.
She grew up regretting that she had no souvenir of her mother’s.
But years later, wiping away her own tears, she realized there never was any rain, and those were no droplets.
Guess she’d been left with something after all.

First Love.

High school.
“I have to do well. I have to be great.” He thought.
Fixing his hair he walked abrisk, head held high he pace quickened.
In he walked, to the first class of a new year.
Looking at all the scattered people, he moved aside.
He didn’t need an acquaintance with the vain, nor the chatty.
And to the side he saw a pile of dark hair, bunched up into a pony tale, head held down in a sulky manner. She looks quite, and simple. She’ll do, he thought.
Class began in a typical introductory manner.
No one cared enough to listen much other to those than the acquaintances they’d already made.
He didn’t pay much attention to her, until she’d accidentally brushed against him while shifting in her seat.
And after that moment he couldn’t stop looking, and didn’t know if he’d ever be able to.

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