raw – Page 4 – The Messy Middle 🖤

What are your plans for today?

I’m headed to the movies,

seat G4 or maybe two,

I’m staring at the back of their heads,

isn’t that what all normal people do?

It’s like I’m in a back pew,

watching love in open-view,

but I’m just the girl in G2.

–S.

Matcha Latte.

He orders matcha because she does.

His smile still gives me a slight buzz.

His laughter gives my eyesight a little fuzz.

But he still orders matcha because she does.

–S.

Depression.

I smile on cue.

Respond with empathy for what’s going on with you.

I laugh when the others do.

I just can’t help but think,

that I’m going through the motions,

more often than a normal person would.

I try to do what someone normal should.

I’d be normal if I could.

–S.

Show Pony.

I go further than I should,

with the gas tank on empty.

My paycheck goes quick,

but I make it so slowly.

I run to conclusions,

and I walk with lonely.

I love reading books,

I cringe at my own story.

I could never be anybody’s show pony.

–S.

Myths.

You don’t know that I exist,

but I can’t resist,

dreaming of you.

You don’t know that I exist,

but in my fantasies,

we do.

You don’t know that I exist,

so I curl my hands into fists,

and I don’t reach for you.

–S.

Alter.

You’ve always had a way of making me feel small.

It doesn’t matter the distance, you can change everything with just one call.

Your words defy space, they crash through every wall.

You hold all the power, you have the ability to ruin it all.

I can never feel tall.

Your voice in my head makes me stall.

No matter what, you’ll always make sure I fall,

or falter.

Why am I always something to be altered?

–S.

Why?

Okay,

I’m leaving.

I guess it just wasn’t our season.

Wrong person.

Wrong time.

I drown myself in an ocean of reasons.

–S.

Gift Exchange.

Life is a gift.

I know, I know, I know.

I can’t help it,

I’ve been feeling so low.

I feel ungrateful,

and like all of the progress has been so slow.

I’ve been staring out the car window,

willing myself to grow.

What if this is it?

What if there is nothing else for me to show?

–S.

Don’t let go of my hand.

Hang on.

Don’t let go.

I need a little time.

I’ve been going a little slow.

Don’t leave me by my lonesome.

It’s summer, but I’m feeling frozen.

I don’t know how to handle any of these emotions.

–S.

Well, could you?

I have acne on my skin.

Four dollars to my name.

A rumble on the right side of my car.

Stretch marks on my body like scars.

Hair that won’t hold a curl.

Shame that dances in my stomach in a twirl.

Do you think you could love me just like this?

I’m just a girl.

After all.

–S.