Writing

One summer, when I was about five years old, I abruptly glanced upon the vast sea with new eyes, ones that saw the water that I used to love so dearly in a petrifying new light.

I'm distracted.

Why did I let myself become so reliant

Dependent

So stupid

Ugh I'm so mad.

So mad.

I let myself become distracted by silly things I could want

I let myself want them

when were you going to tell me

that we were never really friends?

and instead you pretended you liked me

so you could laugh at my tear-stricken face.

all those nights I opened up like you cared

The sinews from my strewn out muscles lay the skeleton of my blanket,

remind me of my strength, 

its fortitude when not forsaken. 

The Empress

lies upon the couch

sleeping

i pet her

she runs away

i cry

Beauty is

Not hiding being a thick mask

A thick layer that is not you.

Beauty is

Not wanting to be someone's doll

Someone's plaything

We are not here for decoration.

Beauty is knowing what you want