nothing else but my heart's desire [COLLECTION] | FINISHED

Routine - ORIGINAL POEM

The sun burns bright, too bright for me to see. It leaves its mark on my heart, my mind as clear as can be expected to me. I feel it melt my skin from my bones, or leave me seeking shelter, as I move my feet forward and hope to return to my home once more. But I must move forward, to live and breathe, even if it means being seen when I'd rather hide and being known in the minds of others, though I can never know what for. I put on a smile and hide the pain I carry, or more practically the headache growing at the base of my skull, and the compulsion to fill the void inside my chest with more distractions, with something to remind me I'm still here. I'm still here, or so I thought, and I have to remind myself still of this fact, to know when to look away from the mirror, when it all becomes too much, and when to greet my reflection as I would another, to look myself in the mirror and face all I fear. I still have to learn that my body is not a doll, that it cannot be changed, that there is beauty in all things, but I hope to reach a point where beauty no longer concerns me, that my life no longer feels like an advert, a promotional, a campaign to impress, but rather a book to read and read again, to never stop reading even when faced with raw, unaltered, unfiltered beauty, as it can be seen when women speak and we all find the strength to look each other in the eye. And so, I write still, though I dont know why, for I have mere hours left before my routine guides me further down the path of the sensible and wise, as my mind becomes cloudy, weary, and my heart takes the pen, as life continues to pass me by. I feel as though I am wasting my twenties, but that is what your twenties are supposed to feel like.