We Are All Dolphins

We are all dolphins

putting on a show,

trained to do tricks

for the people who think

they are saving us

from some treacherousus life.

We are all dolphins

finding joy in

others praise of us

for doing something

we would have done anyways.

We are all dolphins

that think we are free

but are really just free to roam

the tank we live in.

We are all dolphins

being controlled by a higher power

for the enjoyment

of other people.

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The Perfect Love Story

Someone asked me today

to describe the perfect love story

but the truth is you can’t.

There is no such thing.

Love is messy.

Love is unique.

Love is all over the place.

One story that may speak to me,

may speak differently to you

because we don’t have the same heart.

And the things I have felt

in my 21 years of experience

cannot ever be fully captured in words

no matter how hard I may try.

The truth is love is its own language

and it writes it’s own stories

that are intended for small, intimate audiences

and it’s not up to me to put it into words.

I cannot capture the full meaning

behind a smile’s joy

or certain looks given

or even laughs shared.

I cannot only feel the perfect love story

and hope people can catch a small glimpse

of it through my eyes

as I try to live the story.

Love is not a perfect story to be told.

Love is a life to live to it’s fullest.

 

Doors

 

These days,  I often find myself drowning

In trying to figure out what I want with my life.

There is an overwhelming amount of options

Forme to simply choose just one.

With graduation and my degree arriving

In the extremely near future,

It opens up for me enough opportunities to do

Just about anything I could ever imagine.

Which is just absolutely horrifying for me.  

Because of the limited amount of dreams

I’ve accumulated during my lifetime,

I have no idea what I want to door with my life.

I don’t know what kind of job I want

Or where on earth I want to live.

That means literally all the doors are open

And I could go anywhere and do anything

Which causes me immense anxiety

Because all the doors are equally exciting and plausible.

 

I suppose there is  one particular door

that I lean towards more than others

But I can’t go through it right now

unless somebody tells me to.  

I so desperately want to go through that door

But I can’t go through with it until

You give me your blessing.

But you say that now is not a good time.

The door isn’t on the table for this moment.

Which is completely fine because

I don’t want what lies behind that door

For this one particular moment in time.

I want where it leads.

I want the life that it goes to down the road.

I want the final product.

I want to follow the door that leads me to

Building the rest of my life with you

And you can’t build a life overnight.

 

These things take time.

And I worry if I don’t start opening those doors now,

It will be too late by the time your ready

Because I’ll  have had to open another door

And start to follow another path.

But that’s not what i want.

Since I don’t have  much in the way

Of hopes and dreams to follow,

I want to follow my heart.

I want to follow you.

Tell me I can open the door.

Tell me to follow you.

 

No Strangers Here

It’s one of the longest nights of the year

and my soul aches from the pressure it brings.

As the darkness surrounds me,

I open my eyes and see much the same.

I lay in the small, worn bed of my childhood

as the silent tears glide down my face,

softly landing and expanding the never-ceasing puddles.

The tears are no strangers here.

My well-trained pillows are familiar with

muffling the screams and questions

that come straight from my damaged heart:

Why am I not good enough?

Why don’t I deserve love?

No one will ever love a damaged soul like mine.

My soul aches with the weight of carrying questions

that can never be asked or answered.

They are a burden I’m left to ponder

while staring at my ceiling,

trying to make out the faint details in the plaster

as I’ve done so many times before.

I’ve been here before.

I know I’ll be here again.

There’s no way to fix me

and even if there was,

it’s been made clear many times

that no one in my life will ever try.

I’m not worth it.

No one will wastes an “I love you”

on a girl destined to die.

 

Building​ Self-Esteem

Apparently, you should say 10positivee things for each negtive thing to a child. Since my mother has never done that for me, I will do it for myself in the for of a poem.

I am way too fat

but so what if my stomach isn’t flat?

I enjoy the color of my eyes.

I also have thicc thighs.

My left elbow is pretty cool.

My intelligence has done me well in school.

My natural hair color is okay!

My boobs work like an extra tray!

My lips are a nice shade of pink.

I always get the right amount of zinc.

My eyelashes are nice and full.

I think I have a good soul.

 

Note: it’s harder than it looks. 

 

Positive Reinforcement​

I’ve spent weeks studying my notecards

for my early childhood education exams

and several had to do with positive reinforcement.

They say that when you praise a child,

there should be 10 positive comments

for every single negative.

That is how you build their self-esteem.

What a nice theory.

What the notecard failed to mention

was what age that should stop,

because personally I think never,

but I think my mother gave up on that

around the time I turned 8 weeks old.

I’m doing good in life

even if I am overweight.

Where’s my positvity?

Where is my self-esteem?