Self Present
Grab the weight. It's heavy, yeah?
But how heavy is my body.
I push you because I know you need it.
That release. The ease in your breathing after sprinting.
You don't get to this point without a fight.
This place is a luxury, there's velvet everywhere, see?
The lights shine a little brighter than before, the noise is less noisy.
Your steps are more yours, less everyone else's.
I take these steps in the shoes I bought because I fucking want to.
I like this direction, and it does not need to make sense to you.
Or you. Or you. Or you.
I looked in the mirror today and for the first time in a long time, I realized
there is someone else there, looking back at me.
She's smiling, too.
She's standing pretty tall, she has this look in her eye that could finish a war.
I have let her down too. I'm no better than them.
But she's forgiving me, because today, I gave her water to drink.
I gave her enough rest, I gave her some reassurance. I told her I loved her.
I let her feel emotions. I let her feel pretty. Now she feels pretty.
Not because she needs to, but a deeper place. A knowing.
It's becoming more clear and it feels...different.
Like coming to a familiar place but taking a different road there.
Coming to a clearing. A deep breath. A whole body relaxing.
I am here right now.
a fine mood
My bad, for being cynical here.
It's just, I've gone so far down this rabbit hole.
I felt kicked to the side before, and you...
Should I trust
The street beneath my shoes is gravelly and it hurts a little
when I step.
I only hear my steps, alone.
I have gone crazy, alone.
Crazy...
I look for answers,
in my headphones, in the leaves on the trees of the neighborhoods I walk in.
My own eyes, in the mirror.
Maybe my steering wheel can tell me something.
I take deep breaths but this anxious feeling comes back every time.
I cry again while the cars on the road drive by, busy with their own lives.
“Hard Choice, Right?”
you had it.
their trust.
and your own.
everything was perfect, the drinks were flowing, the spikes were sharp
the test was easy, and you were making them proud.
but, you've lost faith in yourself again, haven't you.
the last medal to your collection is only a few months old but it feels like a lifetime ago.
when you're consistent, you don't know how good you're doing until you stop.
you can't see your own progress.
but now they look at you and they're unsure of when you'll perform again.
"oh, she used to be so good.
she used to have this shine that just pulled you in close,
she used to be so sure of herself."
now she can hardly make eye contact with people in the grocery store.
it's gotten bad.
do they make medals for trying?
“Oh I’m Fine Just a Little Anxious...”
for a while,
you had me thinking,
"maybe?"
"is this...right?"
"did i pass?"
and all the while
you were just Thinking
"silly girl...silly her"
"she'd do anything to please me"
"she thinks i have rules...how cute"
cause you knew the whole time.
and still Did that...
you just Didn't Actually Care.
asshole.
sitting with your
smirk (!)
and your
silence.
never wanting to explain yourself.
never wanting to reveal your true identity.
always hiding. always watching.
you creep.
and now i know
to listen
if my stomach hurts
when you walk up to me.
Lemon Lime Clean Energy 16 fluid ounces
It shows up.
It shows up even when you can’t see it.
It shows up through what we do, even when we aren’t aware we’re doing it.
It shows up in our clothes, in our words to other people, in our choices, in our habits.
It shows up in the colors we like and the colors we don’t. It shows up in our brothers and their brothers, too. It shows up in the way we step into the rain without an umbrella and it shows up in the way we jump feet first into the puddle in tall boots.
It shows up with our smirks, our selections of things and how we say hello and the times we choose to say thank you. It shows up even when we don’t. It shows up on the screen and it shows up invisibly. It shows up quietly and it shows up loud. It shows up when you need it to. It shows up.
It shows up.
It shows.
Reassurance to the Puppy
you get that numb feeling
it slowly sinks in
they don't care, they don't care,
they never did
maybe what they said
maybe a word or an expression on their face
made it seem like they cared
like you did
and you clung to that word so heavily
that you molded it into a sort of strap you could hang from and
roll it around in your hands until it felt smooth
smooth and reassuring
don't worry, they do care
they're just b u s y right now
they're just t i r e d
they're just w o r k i n g
Jamie, it’s what you don’t say
Sometimes, silence is also an answer.
It took me some time to understand this, waiting and waiting and waiting for that time where my "perfect" person would finally realize that they were also in love with me and everything would work out the way I wanted it to in my head.
I was in the middle of a depressive episode when I realized that A) that person I was waiting on to text me was never going to say the words I wanted to hear from them an B) if they ever did, it would be too late. Yes, of course the chemistry was wonderful. Yes, the way that they laugh when they're drunk is adorable. And yes, I would carry a box of heavy books down the stairs for them at night to their car simply because I thought it was ~romantic~. But, as my friend helped me to see, if they cause you more pain than happiness, they aren't worth your time. Period. I know this post is slightly cringy and will be embarrassing for me in about two weeks but right now, if anyone out there needs to read this, I hope it reaches you.
Stop waiting for them.
Cause they aren't sitting by their phone waiting to hear from you.
I'm sorry, but it's the truth.