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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I am a performer at best. Doing things for myself is an act unknown to me. I wake up on my own, but rise from bed as if someone's on the other side, And if I rise a certain way, ugly to their eyes, I'd die. I spend my day alone inside my small home, but walk the ground as if someone's peeking through the window, And if I walk a certain way, silly to their gaze, well I'd die. And when I go to bed alone finally, I close my eyes and imagine someone hanging over me, watching, thinking, What they'd do and say, unmindful of me. But they'd never see the real me. No one has or ever will. Do not fool yourself into thinking you have seen beneath this coat I wear. I am discolored and uneven and cruel. And I lay in waiting for someone to peel my body open, and rip out the actress I've become. I lay in waiting for a strong pair of hands to grip her throat and shake her until her brain bleeds. I lay in waiting to retire this old act. I don't want to preform anymore, I am so tired. God, I am so tired.
