I see your lips are moving
but I’m not sure what you’re saying
because actions are louder than words
and I’m getting some mixed messages here.
I like to believe that I am in control.
That I am independent.
I mean I worked my ass off for a degree
I saved up for 5 years and bought a car
I have a good paying part-time job
I’m looking for a big girl career now
But yet no matter how what I do
to make myself feel like
an accomplished adult
I will always be trapped.
For I may have a degree,
but you will always make sure
that you still control
some small piece of my life
so that I always have to come back
to this horrid place.
You will always keep me dependent
so that I can never escape,
even though this atmosphere is toxic
and is killing me; suffacting me
making my accomplishments
as worthless as myself.
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.
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?
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 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.
As my undergraduate career comes to a close
in less than three weeks from today,
I’m finding that the amount of people that
are asking me what my plans are for
after I graduate is increasing substantially.
But the truth is that I really don’t have an answer
to satisfy their curious minds because
I truly don’t know what I am going to do.
Believe me: it’s more frustrating than you know.
I would love to have just one simple answer
to give upon request, but the thing is
that is so much harder to achieve than I thought.
There are so many options at my fingertips
that it is hard to pick just one to follow.
I tried on one, and decided I didn’t like it
and now I feel stuck once again.
As the world I know around me rushes to a close,
I find myself lost in the whirlwind with no direction
and it fills me with an anxiety I can’t describe.
People confront me and I don’t know what I want.
Well, I do.
It’s just not…
I don’t know: A possibility? Viable? Realistic?
It adds to my frustration even more.
I know when people ask me what’s next for me
they want information about my upcoming career,
but I guess the truth is that
that’s not what is important to me.
I have other matters of the heart and soul
to take care of first and until those are met
I can’t focus on anything else.
But my time is running out
and so is the money in my bank account.
I know I need to make a decision.
The pressure is on, but will I be a diamond?
Or will I just crumble?
I wish I was someone worth loving.
I wish I had goals and ambition
and a desire for a career
like women of this society are
expected to want to want these days,
but I don’t.
I wish I looked the way that
boy want me to look
so that I could be someone worth loving,
that I could be thin with big boobs
and a natural blonde with a pleasing face,
but I’m not.
I wish I had something to offer the world
so that I could be someone worth loving;
maybe a skill or talent,
or even money to give the less fortunate,
or time or influence or anything really,\
but I don’t.
I wish I could be someone worth loving
so that maybe I could stop hating myself.
It is dangerous to dream
bigger than the moment
you are already living.
It may be easy to dream
of long white curtains
billowing in a warm breeze
or a four-poster bed with
soft pink petals scattered
across bright, white sheets
that are as fresh and as pure as you;
maybe later you’ll be tangled in them
as you watch the sunset
over the ocean out your window
with the love of your life
shortly after you dedicated
your lives to be spent with each other.
Seems simple enough of a dream,
But that can be ripped from you
long before you ever get close
to touching that dream.
So dream simply of small things
like your first margarita
because the odds of someone
shoving that down your throat
against your will
is a lot less likely than other things…
take it from me.
It must be nice to be you.
Girls like you that look like that-
tiny, thin, attractive.
What society wants girls to look like.
It must be nice to be able
to talk about your weight
and weight loss with ease
in public settings like the pool.
But it’s not for me.
I know everyone has their struggles,
and a different mountain to climb,
but when you sit 5 feet from me
and complain about going from
104 pounds to 110,
and calling yourself fat,
it kills me inside.
You are so thin.
You re so confident.
You are so beautiful.
I would give almost anything
to deal with your dilemma.
Because as you stated,
girls our height are supposed to weigh
one hundred forty pounds max.
You may be far beneath that,
but I am far above that
and hearing you flaunt this fact
while I am in earshot
right after I just worked my ass off
I wish I could flaunt confidence
the way you can flaunt your stomach,
but I can’t. I’m insecure.
And my progress is slow
and a long journey awaits me.
But please, just please
let me feel comfortable
and empowered to take it.
Don’t slow me down.
I have an extra 100 pounds
to do that for me.
I’m very much like Tinkerbell.
I need attention or I’ll die.
OR at the very least to feel
like everyone important
in my small circle of loved ones
isn’t ignoring me.
I’m not asking for a party
or even to meet up.
Just a simple text
asking about my day
or to see if I’m okay…
because I’m not.