This is a personal documentation through poetry.
I am learning to look inward now, give myself love when I least want to. I do not live to love others, I live to love myself. I will find and create what is enough for me, and you will learn to let it...
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It's increasingly difficult to sit still Without some form of guilt Keeping me company. It's never too far off, never not touching me. Yet the romance of its advances Make me choke on my words, Thinking, believing, I should be moving! It doesn't matter what, my body should just be up. I am not made to sit in a cavity for long, I will rot. I am not made to be given time, Just to then go and waste it. But the longer I sit, The worse it gets. It's all over me now, and for some reason I've swallowed my truest words, "Let me be still," And it's pushed the ones down my throat, "Torpid woman, no human is made to be still. Do something that would make your father proud. Do something that will make your future children happy to have come from your body. Ignorant woman, turn yourself inside out, For not yourself, only others. Let your guts be judged. We will decide if you deserve rest or not." And I listened, so intently, so deeply, That I rise from my cavity, and begin to move. What human deserves rest? What human has done enough? What human needs to be still? What human wouldn't want a little company?
