Oh, Who Now?

Have you ever seen a child when they are utterly unhappy?
They don’t hold it in,
Their face turns scarlet, and their smile crumbles into a frown of despair.
Their mouth quivers with angst.
Not before long, their face is drenched with droplets of sorrow.
They have no shame.
They cry it out.
They let it out.
They are not concerned about who sees their tears, but rather about who will dry them up.

Now, these moments are restricted to moments when you’re able to escape an uncomfortable situation;
Moments where your bathroom turns into a labyrinth of despair, a sanctuary of momentary escape.
Your face crumbles into a scrunch of emotion,
But that’s where it stops.
We’re not supposed to let others dry our tears anymore,
Most people don’t see the pain behind the closed door.
We’re not supposed to give into our vulnerability anymore;
Most people just refuse to understand.

We put on yet another mask to hide our despair
I guess this is how we’re manufactured to function now;
Alone.

Oh, who now will dry up our tears, when we never allow them to flow?

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I Never Learned

I never learned how to love myself,
I rather learned how to numb myself,
With spirits, tobacco and pain-killers,
It’s better to hide the pain, and to hide from the mirrors.

I never learned how to tell myself that I’m enough.
I never learned how to be gentle with myself; seems I like it rough,
With my own words that chip away at nice things people have said,
I, myself, am just as to blame for all the reasons I have bled.

I never learned how to harden my skin.
I can’t be nasty to others; only to the body I’m in.
I can’t see why I have to feel with such feeling,
I’m always patching up others, but I’m never healing.

That big, black hound sits on the porch,
Salivating at the mouth to put out my torch.
He’s just waiting for me to open the door,
And say, “Come in, come tear me apart, just as before.”

Crimes of Comparison

Look at that woman; look at her hair, her face, her body, her life.
Look at the way she gracefully floats by; carrying only the weight of the eyes fixed on her around.
Flawless. Magnificent. Beautiful.

I need to overthink this and compare myself to her immediately.

Look at me; my hair, my face, my body, my life.
My hair’s been quite lackluster lately; probably because of the countless times I’ve dyed it, just so as not to look as dull as I feel.
Even in my early 20’s, my face is already showing lines and spots that won’t fade without some help from plastic hands.
My body, well, even after all the weight I’ve lost to try and find a place to fit it, I still don’t see thin when I look in the mirror.
Look at all those stretch marks and those craters in my thighs. I bet she doesn’t have any of that.
Look at my life; I don’t have people look at me in awe like that. I don’t feel fabulous or good enough when I walk into a room.
I don’t have the money to buy nice clothes, or to do my nails every month; my clothes are average and my nail-polish is always chipped away at because of some house chores or just anything really.
I don’t have so many friends, I barely even have one.
People suck; why doesn’t she suck?

What’s wrong with me?

How can I ever measure up to someone like her?

Wait.

Let me compare myself to someone worse off than me so I can feel better again.

Attagirl. 

 

 

Misunderstood

People don’t really listen, do they?
When you talk about something, they don’t really bother to hear you, do they?
And if they should bother to listen, they listen just for the sake of listening. They know that if they don’t pretend to listen, you’ll pick up on it, and you’ll whine about it, because that’s what you do when something upsets you. And when you do that, you’ll await the words “oversensitive” and “overemotional” to be bestowed upon you again.

I don’t want you to listen. I want you to understand.

And, I don’t even want the whole world to understand, maybe just one or two people.

One or two people who who truly understand and accept me, without question.

To Be Understood – Empath

I want someone to understand how deeply I care about things; even the things I shouldn’t care about; even the things they don’t care about.

I want someone to understand that my ability to care so intensely about things is not wrong and is not a weakness; no matter how unimportant they deem it to be.

I want someone to understand that just because they don’t understand how I feel, doesn’t meant that it is wrong or unreasonable to feel that way. I want someone to understand that how I feel is my reality, not theirs. I want someone to understand that I don’t need them to feel the same, but just to be there with me all the same.

To Be Understood – Introvert

I want someone to understand how my introversion is a wall to keep out intruders; a wall that is not easily demolished.

I want someone to understand that my silence does not mean I have nothing to say, but rather that I choose to count my words. I want someone to understand that when I choose to speak, I want to be heard and acknowledged; not spoken over or tossed aside as junk mail.

I want someone to understand that I like to observe and listen to people before I open myself up to rejection when I open my mouth.

I want someone to understand that I don’t want to make people uncomfortable; maybe I just feel uncomfortable because people don’t reach out to comfort me.

To Be Understood – Overeverything

I want someone to understand that I have strong emotions; but I am not overemotional.

I want someone to understand that I am sensitive to the world and words around me because of my experiences; but I am not oversensitive.

I want someone to understand that I have a low self-esteem and image of myself, and despite what I may try to portray; I am not overconfident.

I want someone to understand that these emotions may drive me to see things in a different light to others; but I am not crazy.

I want someone to understand that using these words trigger me into feeling like more of a reject than usual; please don’t use these words when I tell you how you made me feel.

I want someone to understand that I have issues that I am not over; but I am trying, and it’s okay to keep trying.