Aug 26, 2021
SWALLOW OF HOPE
Okay, so here’s a confession. Each day I wake up and look at myself in the mirror I see a stranger I see someone whose flaws I can count at my fingertips – frizzy hair, pigmented skin, stretch marks, uneven limbs, love handles, strawberry spots, bruises and scars I can do all of that as though the person in the mirror is A stranger whom I’d never meet although all this hate ricocheted right back at me and then I’d turn away and put a filter that would make my skin look smoother, my eyes look brighter, my cheekbones sharper and would take pictures as though I wasn’t lying to myself and at least make myself believe that the person looking at these pictures would believe that I was perfect and I would at least convince one person of that, even though that person would never be me. okay, so here’s a confession I love making plans and going out on lunch dates and drinking even when it’s bright daylight outside and taking gazillion pictures with the ones I love but then when someone asks if I want to go out for a drink or two I shut down and say no and decide that I preferred my own company and that a day spent in part sleeping, in part reading, and in part cleaning was my idea of perfect and when asked why, I would just point fingers at my parents make them the villains, because it’s just easier that way. Okay, so here’s a confession when I was younger, I used to talk a lot I’d incessantly chat, with someone, or something tell them about mundane things that I noticed how I saw faces on the fronts of vehicles, how I saw shapes in the clouds yet as each day passed, lesser and lesser people listened and I was then told that my talking was annoying, that my opinions didn’t matter and that some things are best left to be kept inside and so when I grew up, I stopped talking like before always afraid of sounding silly or boring or stupid because I realized that around people, you must not be yourself, no, you must be someone who has no blemishes someone who always has plans someone who only speaks sense someone, who is only a shell of who you really are.