This is my plight. I can not go into anything half ass. I need to feel something. I must jump in with both feet. I come in hot without the best brakes. I’m flying and I feel alive. My smile is infectious. It’s hell slowing this circus down. I manage it just fine. I’m out on front street for everyone to see my flaws. I can pick myself apart in a matter of a minute. I learned it from the best. I loathe my body. It does not match what’s inside. I deal with it. Just look in my eyes if you need to know who I am. That’s as real as it will get. You can see my soul if you look hard enough. I am not who you think I am.
I’ve put myself out there nine thousand and ninety-nine times and failed every single time. I hate myself some days. I hate my intensity. I hate the chains that hold be down. I hate my fantasies and all my pretty horses. I hate my thighs and my breasts. I don’t let anyone see my legs. I am ashamed. I look like a freak. Several years ago I was thin. I stood at almost 5’10” and weighed 150 pounds. I’d never been that thin. I saw a whale in the mirror and hated myself still. Other people hated me too because they told me I looked sick and needed to eat. I got accused daily of having an eating disorder. It was sad. I saw my reflection in a window once and I wondered who that woman was. She was thin and healthy and had a bounce in her step. What the actual hell? It was me. Sadly it didn’t last because of all the static. Back to fat me because it made everyone else more comfortable.
I’ve traveled a bit off my intended thought but I will just roll with it. I am intense. I hate it sometimes. Most people don’t appreciate my passion for things in life. I get so much joy from simple things. A butterfly in the grass or my beloved crow cawing in the distance. Sometimes I open the door to a murder of crows in the field. I see the beauty. I know they are misunderstood. I get them and they me. We occupy the same space for a while then they fly away. I have peace.
When I love you then it’s fierce. I love with a deepness and passion that some people can’t grip. I can’t play with my feelings. If I love you then you know it. If I love you I give it all. I lay it all on the line then I cross that line. I feel the fire. I need that back. I need to feel what I give. This is the hard part. I give it to the wrong people. I give my love to those that will never love me back. I give to those that are unable to feel. I love too much. Every time I can feel my heart ache a little more. I do think that it’s possible to give all the love you have until there’s nothing left of your heart. It’s torn a little more and the pieces are scattered to the wind. It’s hard to continue with less and less each time.
I can’t take a seat and watch the madness. I always shoot the moon. One day it may pay off or kill me in the process. I’m not sure how it will end up. I know that one day a lot of people will regret letting me go. I will be fine. I went big and lost. I tried and gave it my all. I’m not ashamed to have loved and lost. Be ashamed to have held the world in the palm of your hand and let it slip away.