The Mirror

When I look in the mirror,

I hate myself.

I cannot find one small thing

that I enjoy about myself.

I do what I can

to change that

but nothing is never enough.

I’m starting to see why

models starve themselves

just to like what they see.

Maybe not such a bad idea.

 

 

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Go Out Walking

Every day I  go out walking

miles and miles of trails that wind

hoping, and praying,

to leave myself behind.

I’m looking for a new me,

one I can face in the mirror

because now all I can see

is someone far inferior.

Sometimes I think it’s working;

that all the struggles are worth it.

I  do everything correctly,

but nothing has changed a bit.

No matter how hard I work,

no matter how hard I strive

I’m greeted by the same person

at the end when I arrive.

Too Many Times

Too many times in the course of history

woman have been told to sit back and be quiet:

the men are talking.

 

Too many times in the course of history

woman have been told their opinions are cute,

but it’s the men’s who count.

 

Too many times in the course of history

woman have been told to stop talking

because the men don’t agree.

 

Too many times in the course of  my history

I have been told my opinions don’t matter,

by men of course,

simply because I see the world through a different lens

and thank God I do

because someone has to look out for someone

other than themselves.

 

What is in My Soul?

When you look into my soul,

and I know you do because

I can feel you there,

what is it you see?

I like to believe that there is

something beyond the darkness

I’ve been feeling for a few years now.

I like to believe I go deeper than that;

I am multidimensional.

Perhaps you see my passion,

surrounded by persistence and loyalty.

Perhaps you see the youth

that my playful heart feeds off.

Perhaps you see soft, gentle colors

that depict all the kindness

I have to offer to others.

Or maybe you see the abundance

of love and compassion that I am

just dying to share with the world.

What is in my soul?

What do you see?

Is there hope for me yet?

Or has the darkness smoothered my light?

Taking Things

I thought you were done taking things from me

when you stole my virginity 7 years ago.

But yet here we are, all these years later

and you’re still taking things from me:

My happiness

My hopes

My dreams

My soulmate

My chance of having someone love me.

I can’t have any of those things

because you ruined me; damaged me.

And now I’m so broken that

I can never have the one thing all always want.

After 7 years I finally realize

it’s never going to get better for me.

Fuck you.

 

 

The Rose

Today I will tell you the story

of a delicate rose who’s life

did not turn out as planned.

The Rose was planted in a garden

with hundreds of other roses.

Of course, she was not the prettiest.

She was plumper than the others

had a blemish or two on her petals,

and had a few extra thorns

to keep herself safe,

yet she believed in the same dream

as all the other roses:

that for someone she would be enough.

The Rose had spent many waking hours

hoping and dreaming of the day

when just the right person would

come along and choose her.

She wouldn’t allow herself to be picked

by just anyone walking by.

She wanted to be picked by someone

who would love her,

cherish her, adore her,

and take care of her until

her final day because, after all,

you can only be picked once.

She was fiercely determined to have

this dream come true more than any

other she had ever had.

But one day, a stranger came along

and right away she knew that he

was up to no go. He smelled of death.

She prayed as he began to slowly

examine each rose around her

that he would pick someone else

or hopefully, none at all so that

she and her neighbors could

all have their dreams fulfilled.

Unfortunately this evil stranger

set his devastating eyes on her.

Despite her begging and pleading

to be left alone, to not be picked,

he yanked her from the earth

aggressively, and against her will.

When the stranger picked  up The Rose,

he was pricked by many of her extra thorns

and threw her aside with disgust.

Sadly, The Rose was left plucked

and tossed to the side of the path

But still The Rose hoped that maybe,

someday, the right person would

come along and still be able to love

a rose that has already been plucked.

Alas, each day newer, kinder strangers

came into the garden and stepped over her

in search for a flower that

still had yet to be plucked.

The Rose continued to hold on,

holding in her heart a belief

that a truly good person

would come along and see

all the beauty she had to offer

to the world, even though she

had been damaged against her will.

One day, shortly after,

a man walked into the garden.

In The Rose’s heart, she knew with

almost as much certainty about this man

as she had had that the stranger that

had picked her was here to bring trouble,

that this new man was the one

she was intended to spend her life with.

This was the man who would take care of her

and appreciate her for the rest of her time.

He walked kindly through the flowers

and respected each and every one.

When he came to the Rose, simply

tossed aside, he bent over to pick her up.

The Rose’s heart beat with excitement

thinking that maybe, just maybe

she could still find happiness

and her dream could come true.

The man gave the rose a pitiful look

and said ” What a wonderful rose.

If only someone hadn’t already plucked you.

I only want a rose that I can pick for myself.”

With that, he laid the rose down delicately

amongst the other flowers

and picked a fresh, beautiful flower nearby.

The Rose’s heart fell.

She knew that this man here today

was her destiny: if only he had come

a week sooner, before her tragic event.

Then maybe, just maybe, life could

have worked out in her favor.

Instead, she lays amongst dirt and roots,

hidden by flowers still full of life and hope,

withering away to dried leaves and petals

waiting for the life to leave her worthless body

hoping that maybe in her next life

things will turn out better.

 

Spoilers

Life is a movie

that everyone wants to see.

But like a movie,

it has spoilers

and people further along

in the movie

can’t keep their mouths shut

and ruin your ideas

and thoughts

and plans

and hopes.

So if you know the movie

won’t end how you want,

why bother to keep watching?

It’s ruined in a way

you can never undo.