RIP Robin Gibb.   :(

Click on photos to see in full*

Ah, my long hair and the seventh grade. When beauty was optional, when climbing trees and goofing off ranked higher than being accepted and fitting in.

Then my downward spiral began. The need to be “pretty”. For people to stop laughing and teasing me and start approving of me. I wanted the curvacious bodies that were popping up on other girls, but never came to me. And now people give me that attention, despite the fact that under the facade I am the same bony little girl who misses climbing trees. A genuine smile like the one above is rare coming from me these days. My face hurts from grinning at people who won’t remember me in five years, but their attention right then is so important to me. Growing up, being accepted, is so overrated.

I just want to wipe this mascara off and go climb a tree. But I can’t.  Because I have to go squeeze into my little dresses and put my hair up, and hope someone will love the idea of me, just maybe.

Sometimes a tiny being comes into your life to give you six months of companionship that is irreplaceable. And then for some reason or another, that little being leaves your life.  Like Gizmo, my little darling boy. The most devoted dog I’ve ever had. I miss him terribly.  </3

             You can be my                    Pygmalion,I will be your

      Ivory Girl. Carve me and       mold my curves of marble, as

     you cherish my every curl.       With Venus, bring me to life

    only when I am truly perfect.    With Venus’ power, watch

     my limps unfurl. Partake in my body, my heart, and soul.

         Put pearls and silver ’round my neck, and paint my

           eyes with charcoal. Make me beautiful, lover, I               

                need you, the wait has taken a toll.You

                  carved me with your hands, your art,

                      Brought me to life, your perfect     

                        counterpart. Now you can be

                             my Pygmalion, and I

                                    your Ivory

                                         Girl.

When the lover becomes the foe,
Is there really any safe place you can go?
Can you hide in your heart, retreat to your brain?
Or is it all in vain?

I beg you to save me from myself.

Then I say, “It’s not up to you to save me.”

I love you, I hate you.

I want you, I don’t know what I want.

I need you.

..I don’t need anybody.

But I do.

I need you.

You told me so.

You liar.

You rescue me,

you play the hero.

But secretly,

you are also my foe.

You save me from you.

But what can I do?

I need you.

My sick and twisted Hero.

My heart is breaking,

My chest is aching.

And I wonder,

Is it time to stop faking?

I’ve grown to hate you,

Almost as much as I hate myself.

This love that we have,

Has put me through hell.

I need to think,

I need to breathe.

I’m on the brink.

Alone I seethe.

And I’ve grown to hate you.

..Almost as much as I hate myself.

I’ve had enough,

It hurts too much.

Your face,

When I called your bluff.

I ran,

You didn’t stop me.

I ran and I ran,

You watched me go.

You let me go,

You closed the door.

Where I was going,

I didn’t know.

I just wanted away from you,

My lover, who had become my foe.

Why do you do,

What you’ve done to me?

I ran.

But where could I go?

I return.

You open the door, and don’t speak.

Because you already know.

You close the door behind us,

And I return to the circus.

And as much as it’s killing me,

I let you enfold me once again.

As I creep closer to my end.

Yesss. We’re one of those couples.  <3