i’d love to say i’ve been through this before you’re bringing out the best in me and i promised myself but somehow i never let anyone so near that i’m my worst self today my scarred, broken skin shows and i turn into a joke oh if you’d only seen me yesterday because it hurt so much when i was careless, strong and free i promised i would heal i felt like i was seventeen and began again but most of all wiser i felt awake stronger oh had you seen me yesterday you were my little secret i danced in the fitting room i didn’t dare to tell the world how lucky i was how grateful i were if you’d seen the minidress i bought for you how i owed you if only i had told you i was borrowing you lovely glow and claiming it as mine would we be talking now? and now you won’t answer is it because we disagreed, last week? you won’t call me back i know i’m making it worse but all this being awake it’s already bad becomes too much and i don’t care i regret it so if i said something wrong and my head spins, please let me take it back and i feel cold and sick because i will hurt and i can’t think i’m begging you one painful truth please tell me this won’t let me be i know i can pull myself together and go on, but it hurts is this my fault, again? and am i driving you off? do i really have to?
hello to everyone, who still finds the time to read my scattered ramblings in these days of heat and stress and overwhelming global creations.
i will have to force myself to be quite straight forward with today’s daily prompt. and as much as i’d love to put some good effort and time into this post (much like with yesterday’s prompt, which i eventually skipped heavy-heartedly, for lack of time and thinking capacity), there won’t be no picture or poem or song lyrics. oh well; maybe i’ll quote a song, at least.
when i was ten, i went to fourth grade – like most kids my age. . at home, i had lego bricks lying on the carpet and between my pillows. . i had kept my barbies, although all i did was sew dresses for them. . i loved to draw, mostly because i had detailed ideas, ready to be put down. . i never quite excelled at maths, but once i understood, it felt pretty doable. . i studied french. i felt grateful that memorizing vocabulary was effortless.
when i was ten, i got asked what i wanted to become, once i grew up. in hindsight, i wonder why adults confronted kids my age with those kinds of questions. were the answers not entirely irrelevant, when i hadn’t even known secondary education? can kids even know what they want to become?
when someone knelt down before me and asked, i stuck with the activities i enjoyed. . i’d wanted to be an architect. . i’d wanted to be a designer. Continue reading →