When we don’t say anything at all. My silence. My silence that is ever growing, ever taking over. Somedays I want to scream. I want to sing on the top of my lungs. I want to throw temper tantrums and voice my opinion. I want to say things like “Screw this I’m out of here.” Instead I either think of better thoughts, better times and I stay. Or I simply sneak out the back and hope no one sees me. Is it my biggest want to be invisable?? Am I desperate to slink in and fit in, you know finally fit in.
I want someone, to love. (Note: Not need) I want someone who can pull back my hair and say “You’re beautiful.” I’ll cry a little with my own insides screaming that it’s all a lie. Perhaps my exceptance is what I want more than anything, because so much of my problems is my own feelings about myself. Every morning I stand infront of my mirror and I have to find that one thing about me that makes me something worth looking at. A lot of times it’s crowded by all the negative comments I find while looking for that one good thing, but everyday I do.
I wish I was just one of those people that screamed. Even if it was “I am soo drunk” or my body screamed “hottie” or even if I screamed “importance” or “amazing” Instead I think the only thing my body has left is a whisper that says “alive.” I can note my own strength in the ever continuing days. I can note my own beauty in break down. I can note my own creativity with the way I see the world. I’m just wondering if anyone else will ever look with me.