#screw & live people

SCREW EVERYTHING ELSE, 

I need to live. 

I just want to be free

 <before it gets to late and I'm a mom who is always stressed and regrets not living and not risking enough.>

I need to stop worrying about what might happen and start looking forward to what could happen. 

I need to stop comparing myself to others. 

I need to dye my hair or kiss a boy. 

I want to-

I should-

I could-

I just need to live because before I know it I'll be dead, and this is basically a random mini rant so you can stop reading now. 

B o n e s

In 50+ years our bones will be lying underground.

Packed under the cold, silent earth.

And as we sit dead, 

our skin deteriorates, our spirit lifts up to the sky, but our bones stay. 

Strong, they remain. 

Being the most loyal part of us. 

The last evidence that I was a person and that I had a name. 

An impact on those I met. 

To the world. 

Contributing to the exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide. 

People are afraid of bones because they can't see a person's heart. 

When they see skeletons they are afraid because the empty dark crevices used to hold someone's eyes; 

someone's life. 

Yet bones are the ones who have been with us our whole lives. 

Since the day we were born. 

In my eyes, they are the ones who know us the best. 

They are old and wise 

They didn't have to learn how to think or how to love.

Yes they are silent, but they are always there. As we live, our bones may creak ever so slightly to remind us that they are there, as our supporters and our friends.

They give us strength. 

They helped me stand even when my head and my heart said, 'we can't'. 

And although my bones have broken, they've always mended themselves because they know I can't live without them. 

So doesn't it make sense for our bones to stay as the rest of us leave this world of all we've known, as a remnant of who we were? 

Death: an old friend

For all you HP fans out there::

"It was only when he attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility, and gave it to his son.

 And then, he greeted Death as an old friend, went with him gladly, and, as equals, they departed from this life."

Wilting

She's wilting.

Her petals are falling more and more each day and I don't know what to do. All she wants is to live free. 

but she says she doesn't care, that life's not fair.

She's suffering from anorexia. 

She pierced her ear at 4 AM to get back at her parents for controlling her life. 

She thinks she will find happiness by making out with strangers.

She tells me her life is spiraling down, that everything is falling apart.

I watch her live her life and my heart cracks everytime. 

Her petals are wilting. 

Her head is sinking

On the outside she is living, laughing. 

On the inside I see her dying. 

I see her dying and I start crying because she can't see that people care. 

She can't see how beautiful she is. 

Everytime I see her 

we hug.

I listen.

I have so many things to say to her but I'm too afraid to open my mouth. 

I just want to save her.

I don't know what to do. 

I see her future. I see her dying. I see her death and I'm terrified.

My flower child only believes in rebellion.

Honey, let the sun shine down on your pretty face

please, let God embrace you in His undying love for you. 

Please darling, I want you to live again. Please, don't let me watch you die like this. You're not only killing yourself but you're killing me </3

Courage.

JUST BECAUSE I HAVE COURAGE DOESN'T MEAN I'M NOT AFRAID.

The list

I am afraid of hair in the shower drain.

Of tongues because tongues are muscles and people French kiss with them.

I am afraid of taking out the garbage on Fridays because what if I found a dead body in the trash can?

Of people who walk on the side of the road at night with their hoods over their heads.

My dad's white nose hairs.

Of becoming a hoarder.

Getting stuck in a freezer and dying silently.

Falling into a port-a-potty.

I'm afraid of untied shoelaces when it's raining and stepping on wriggling worms.

I'm also afraid I've been diagnosed with what they call insecurities. it's a disease. Except everyone has it.

They say when you're honest with your insecurities it's easier to overcome them so here I go:

I am terrified of walking past kids in the hallways. 

Sometimes I get panic attacks.

Sometimes I wish I were a turtle so I could hide in my shell and slowly sneak away without anyone noticing me.

I'm terrified of letting people see who I really am.

Asking for help is so hard.

I am horrified of talking to most of you who are reading this and it's hard for me to say that.

I'm self conscious about my body.

My legs, my mole, my face, my butt, my weight. Just me in general, I guess.

Death.

I'm afraid of letting my parents down. 

I'm afraid of driving.

I'm afraid of being noticed.

Of people asking me questions.

Of change.

Of living on my own.

Godless

The Help is such a powerful movie. 

This quote is so good it makes me tear up everytime. I admire Aibeleen so much because of her courage and integrity. I hope to be more like her so I can stand up to the future Miss Hillys in my life.

"All you do is scare 

and lie to try and get what you want. You're a godless woman. 

Ain't you tired, Miss Hilly? 

Ain't you tired?"

BRICKS

My dad has hammered toes 

And dented toenails.

Grandma told him that when he was

little, bricks fell on his toes and that's why they're ugly.

But then my little sister was born and her toes looked just like my dad's.

My dad was confused, "there are others like me?" 

Yes.

There are others like you, with imperfections. 

Harmless ones that don't measure your worth.

But people have told you that bricks fell on you. 

Bricks fell on your head, bricks fell on your heart. 

That's why you can't feel, that's why you're not smart but the truth is that imperfections make you perfect. 

And covering your scars and your hammered toes with heavy bricks only hurt more. 

But people blame bricks instead of accepting. 

Accepting. 

People blame bricks because bricks are bricks and then no one is to blame but those stupid old bricks.

They bury themselves, they bury each other because who wants to look ugly with hammered toes and dented nails?

People say hiding their imperfections will make you feel accepted. 

But people blame bricks instead of accepting.