She is quiet like dark, she is nothing special, she is nothing new, she is Girl.
Girl walks through the world and tries not to step on sidewalk cracks,
Girl leaves the stove on but her house is still standing when she comes back,
Girl takes showers with dirty water up to her ankles,
Girl laughs to herself, for herself.
This is what Girl wants: Girl wants love, like everyone. Girl wants to stick her fingers in someone’s mouth just to prove they won’t bite down on them.
She is a little piece of something that happens to be, a little piece of something that desperately wants to touch, to be touched, a little piece of anger that wants to scream, to run on all fours, to sit quietly on the couch and pull someone’s face close, to speak in small voices. A little meat and bone put together to make something more and bigger and more. She burns her finger and she sucks on it. She hits her knee on the corner of a table, and she rubs the spot until it’s calm. She holds herself in her sleep. She looks in the mirror and traces the bones under the skin of her face. Is that me? Is that all I am? Where is me in this small little body? Where is I?
Girl, a little piece of something, a fleeting thought that matters, a body made of clay, a future house for worms, Girl, you are in the little song you sing, say your pretty words, you might not be here tomorrow. Find someone to hold, and keep them close. Put magnets on your fridge, put stickers on your body. Please, girl, be the fool. Bite at the inside of your mouth. For now, you’re real. For now, it all means so much. Prod at the skin of your belly, kiss your own hands. You love to cry, Girl, because the salt tastes good, and you love to smile, because it hurts right. You want to be happy. More than anything, happy. You want to be something, you want to be in front of a door, opening it. You want to know what’s behind it. But you can’t, you can’t, you’ll have to trust your hands to turn the knob, your feet to walk forward. You have taken care of them. Now, they will take care of you.
God made me unphotogenic to keep me humble and i respect that
BE PREPARED FOR REJECTION WHEN YOU REFUSE TO BE MANIPULATED
“I think too much. I think ahead. I think behind. I think sideways. I think it all. If it exists, I’ve fucking thought of it.”— Winona Ryder
