~ Hey,
has it ever made you cry
that chocolate melts on your fingertips more than I?
I met a cutie who hates marshmallows
was told to chew gum and skip the kilos.
At dinner with love in your eyes
I get drained from speaking-wise.
You can't reach my heart with the miles between
Who I am and who I wish to be.
Confident girls will make me cry.
Fire isn't just a word I spell,
It's my inner conflicts' hell.
I hear the waterfall
In a pipe inside the wall.
Wrap my skinny arms around the pillow.
I'm glad tears don't glow.
Heard him once say:
"Not every girl is a chocolate bar"
I thought he was telling me not to eat the cookie in the jar.
Took a shot of something strong,
yet didn't stop me from doing wrong.
Table lamps and thick covers,
I thought I had recovered
but my soul still suffers.
Hands hold onto the ceramic tight
as my toes curl and my head spins
letting my stomach empty its sins.
For a moment I am empty and hollow
and my soul feels so shallow.
'Not every girl is a chocolate bar'
He wanted me to be stronger.
Happiness is temporary;
I want a dose of the real thing.
I heard a girl laugh from the other side of the wall,
and her laugh is a reminding call.
I lost a love so real,
to die for more.
Nineteen, holding the scissors to his silky hair for every fight
to remind himself violence feels ugly.
He loved his hair though
and I loved him.
Some of what we love we use to punish ourselves.
Before he left, he told me I had taught him something:
'violence against one's self looks even uglier'
I put a hand on my heart
the other against the wall.
Happiness so close yet so far.
I now understand how much walls can hide;
how strongly they separate:
the past from the present
or the present from the future?
To find peace in 'ever after',
to enjoy such laughter,
starts with the love you already have
not the one you wish to gather.
Drag a towel on the floor
with the numbness I wore.
Rub the goosebumps off my skin,
slide my thin under the sink
counting one more sin.
While my head spins with a heavy feeling
I pray that this is the darkest before the dawn,
and sing my childhood song.
'You fill up my senses
Like a night in a forest
Like the mountains in springtime
Like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert
Like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses
Come fill me again...'
-John Denver: Annie's Song
.self care.