Trying
how do i get into these situations?
how do i find myself in such a state that .... yeah don't need to have psych called on me.
It feels better....some times, when there is a physical sting to correspond to the acid dipped heart. Justification. that's the word i'm looking for. the sting, the knitting wound, scab, some times scars, swelling, tender steps, sore muscles, they justify the feelings.
Easily discarded, a girlfriend of convenience, pushover, disposable... yep soft yet strong, brawny's got nothing on me. I'll be there to mop up the mess, clean it up, get dirty so that you'll look shiny and clean. then be forgotten.
I was complimented today, a man said i was beautiful.... i bit my tongue. i wanted to tell him to get his eyes checked but i sheepishly said thank you. Is that the right response? Or is it customary to give a compliment in return? or is that just stroking an ego? As Margaret from "North and South" said, "Oh Mr. Thornton, I am not good enough!"
thats how it is, to try to believe what people see in you when you don't see it yourself. to be forced to look at a mirror through Vaseline smeared goggles. an insistent hand pressing the back of your head urging you to see what it sees, but you can't....you can't.
all you see is the distorted, disfigured, Quasimodo. and through the insistence, all the while, you are confused and feel a soul deep unworthiness for such praise. You haven't earned it, there is no charm visible to your eye, nothing to draw the attention being bestowed upon you. And if for but a moment you believe their words of praise, the accolades and affection... well then hold on, it won't last long, it never does.
alone I wander around the house, walking circles into the carpet. i have tasks before me but none that really call me to complete them. listless i just sit around, drop a bit further down that rabbit hole called Netflix and Youtube.
I'm hungry, but i don't want to eat. I'm thirsty but the thought of liquid passing my lips makes me nauseous.
I want a hug. i want to be held and told that this will pass and that it'll be alright. some one who has trudged through a similar path and found a way point along the way to pause and, turning, reach back for the next wanderer coming up the path.
I ask too much
"Oh Mr. Thornton, I am not good enough!"
more and more i believe it.
how do i find myself in such a state that .... yeah don't need to have psych called on me.
It feels better....some times, when there is a physical sting to correspond to the acid dipped heart. Justification. that's the word i'm looking for. the sting, the knitting wound, scab, some times scars, swelling, tender steps, sore muscles, they justify the feelings.
Easily discarded, a girlfriend of convenience, pushover, disposable... yep soft yet strong, brawny's got nothing on me. I'll be there to mop up the mess, clean it up, get dirty so that you'll look shiny and clean. then be forgotten.
I was complimented today, a man said i was beautiful.... i bit my tongue. i wanted to tell him to get his eyes checked but i sheepishly said thank you. Is that the right response? Or is it customary to give a compliment in return? or is that just stroking an ego? As Margaret from "North and South" said, "Oh Mr. Thornton, I am not good enough!"
thats how it is, to try to believe what people see in you when you don't see it yourself. to be forced to look at a mirror through Vaseline smeared goggles. an insistent hand pressing the back of your head urging you to see what it sees, but you can't....you can't.
all you see is the distorted, disfigured, Quasimodo. and through the insistence, all the while, you are confused and feel a soul deep unworthiness for such praise. You haven't earned it, there is no charm visible to your eye, nothing to draw the attention being bestowed upon you. And if for but a moment you believe their words of praise, the accolades and affection... well then hold on, it won't last long, it never does.
alone I wander around the house, walking circles into the carpet. i have tasks before me but none that really call me to complete them. listless i just sit around, drop a bit further down that rabbit hole called Netflix and Youtube.
I'm hungry, but i don't want to eat. I'm thirsty but the thought of liquid passing my lips makes me nauseous.
I want a hug. i want to be held and told that this will pass and that it'll be alright. some one who has trudged through a similar path and found a way point along the way to pause and, turning, reach back for the next wanderer coming up the path.
I ask too much
"Oh Mr. Thornton, I am not good enough!"
more and more i believe it.