sometimes, sometimes i just feel like sinking a knife into the centre of my chest and twisting it, twisting it until the blood pools around me, covering up her expectations and her disappointments so that i cannot see them. and then i will scoop it up, scoop it up to dye my tears and my body red.
and then ill make blood angels on the floor. because that would make me laugh.
but i dont.
i dont because there is a voice inside me that screams to me that that is stupid. that im worth far more than that. and i know its true. i know that the value of my existence is far too high to be judged by anyone.
anyone. i am smart, beautiful, confident and i deserve better. it doesnt matter how other people take me to be. maybe im not enough to them, maybe im too much. but it doesnt matter.
it doesnt matter because in the end, i am the one who will live with myself. i am the one who knows myself the best. i am the one who knows: This is Me. This is what I believe in. This is what I am capable of. other people can tell me that im not good enough, im not working hard enough, but at the end of the day, i act according to my principles and i can live with myself.
and that is enough for me.
