I'm an overthinker.
I can't help but wonder why something happens.
I stare at a text I sent hours ago, wondering how the recipient will respond.
I'm a people pleaser.
I can't help but think about what others think of me.
I always seem to need everyone's approval.
I like watching scary movies, but never at night.
I tie my shoes a little weird.
I still wish upon the stars like a little kid.
I pretend I live in New York City when no one else is around.
I listen to music when I feel sad.
I write stories when I feel empty.
I tell myself things I know aren't true.
I do my homework ahead of time.
I name inanimate objects that surround me to make me feel less alone.
I worry too much.
I cry too much.
I think too much.
Sipping pink lemonade,
she dances on stars
creating deeper groves along her
But she doesn’t jump
and pump her fists into the moonlit darkness,
to invisible rhythms
that vibrate along the particles
of her starry world.
as she lets the pink liquid dreams
trickle down her throat...
she savours it
with fluttering eyes
and an absent mind.
They call her crazy,
but she’s in her own world,
the beautiful world people forget to look up at,
forget to take the time to take it all in:
the brightest and the dimmest of stars
the speckles of music that drift in milky waves
the silent hopes that flow throughout their veins.
she sees it all.
she moves through it all and doesn’t waste a second or a feeling
as her heart mellows to the absent world around her.
Who I am, Is who I want to be
Who I am is who I want to be
an artist and a writer,
a kid at heart even when I’m sixty
and for the right reaons, both a lover and a fighter
I am a coffee drinker at night
and a soccer player during the day
I love kisses under the moonlight
and to my lord and savior, I pray
I love late night drives,
to nowhere or everywhere
and daydreaming of a fantasy life
but I have the most adoring family that no other can compare
I make others laugh, with my jokes or my stupidity?
Which one is it? Whichever is fine
In my daily life I find complete serendipity
I hope to make other’s lives so much more divine
Because this is who I am and who I want to be
I am eager to please, listless and not paying attention. When someone speaks to me I'm somewhere else entirely, rethinking text messages I've sent and contemplating the things I do not want to do. I sometimes yell to be heard. I can be dismissive, and when I once went to therpay, my therapist described me as "the queen of avoidance." I hate change and transitions. I am left wondering if I am overly medicated into oblivion. Others go on to be doctors and lawyers and I am stuck. I don't know how to make my first move. Perhaps I'm too shy, or maybe I'm a sociopath in disguise.
I'm a poor excuse for a sister and do not speak to my mother. I'm lazy and depressed, unable to maintain relationships for supposed slights that I have made up against family members, in order to avoid talking to them and feeling anxiety that I am not good enough. I got angry when a friend told me I was not taking quarantine seriously, and I dumped her as a friend. No one has time for a nay-sayer, although I find myself saying words out loud I don't even believe.
I cry in public spaces. The last time I spoke to a therapist for an intake, I told her I didn't want someone who smiles and nods. Well, she said. That's sometimes all you can do. We agreed there was a scheduling conflict. I don't settle.
Talking to someone about my problems is important. I sent my sister a selfie from the hospital and she said, you need to stop doing this. Hospitals are my safe space. I want to be broken, and I want to be sick. I'm what you call a self-fulling prophecy. I have a lot of regrets and want to stop taking my medication so I can live without feeling like I'm swimming in the ocean.
I run my dog on the beach and feel enlightened. I call him baby and get mad when he barks. I don't understand my anger and think it is misdirected, even as I act on it. I love some things so much but the voices in my head are confused and don't like when I'm happy. There are a lot of voices.
I am someone who avoids their reflection in the mirror. I am not about appearances. It is easy to run from my problems, and it is easy to deflect what is right in front of me. Perhaps we all choose the path of least resistance.
Describing How I Really Look
I am a rectangle that lays on any dirty surface.
I get stepped on, kicked, stomped and used.
I collect your sand, grime, mud and other unwanted debri.
I live in your ins and outs waiting for your comings and goings.
I can be replaced when your taste, needs and want changes.
I am thrown away when my stains show and threads bcome bare.
I have a real name, but I mostly answer to Mat and Rug
This is me
I laugh at inappropriate times.
I have a nervous twitch that only I can feel inside my head.
Anytime life gets real I retreat in my house like a turtle hiding in their shell.
I am socially retarded.
I have major self esteem issues.
I can’t stand looking at myself in the mirror.
I wear the same sweatshirt one too many days in a row.
I do have good qualities but it’s hard for me to see them.
I am a really good mom.
I am patient.
I love my little family.
I am wise beyond my years.
I am a good cook.
I am extremely sensitive.
Rejection is my enemy.
I only open myself up to those closest to me.
This is me.
Holding onto my shitty past with a sharp spear to my life until I can learn to let go.
I am the late daughter who never wakes up at time, I eat according to emotions, and I see nothing wrong with that, I sing when am sad and lose myself when am mad, I have never loved anyone but my family members, and intend to leave it that way, I believe in a God because I have seen miracles happen to people with good hearts over and over again , and I have regretted crying over spoiled milk because I never knew why until I saw the good side of it, I feel others too mush, and because of that I tend to forget my self, I dream of the day when i will know what I want in life, because I have tried so many times to find out, but ended up losing my mind, because I keep losing my mind ever since I saw something I shouldn't have seen, I question myself eight times out of ten, and the only two times I trust my actions is when they involve giving a helping hand or acting out of blinded bravery, I am alone despite having friends, I am bored despite knowing the size of the universe and the limitless knowledge I could learn, I love the starry night, and hate the sunny days, I despise injustice and above all the powerful greedy men, I can learn anything I ever want, but I don't find the purpose behind spending my time in books to learn something only others will use, when I can simply spend my time discovering the little hidden ability of mankind as a race, this is me the one and only, with my unique memories I cry over the past that only I can see, I was the only one to notice what everyone had felt at every crisis they had to face, except for death, I never lost anyone dear to me therefor I can not know the feeling, and that frightens me at times, I feel for others more than I feel for myself when they ask me why I am abnormal it is hard to explain that what I feel is the reflection of what I see in them, and yet I still don't know who I am.
My feet are constantly cold but I hate wearing socks or shoes. Archeology was my favorite class last semester. Poetry calms me. Last month, I chopped my boobs in half because they were too big. I get drunk on Thanksgiving every year, religiously. Pitbull is truly mr. worldwide. At one point the only shoes in my closet were Toms. I am a pro at climbing kitchen counters. The only coffee I like is the chocolate and almost covered popsicles with coffee ice cream from Magnum. There are at least four pillows on my bed at all times.