She painted her skin
with the brush of a knife
the fibres so sharp
it could end her life
She looked at her masterpiece
And sighed in a whim
The oozing crimson
Trickled down, past her shin
Then she glared at the lines
that the paintbrush had traced
She’s ashamed of her work
She’s ashamed she resisted
It’s a terrible mess
I told her, it won’t last forever
You’ll be free someday
Then she painted one last picture
Every idea starts with an influence.
My main influence for this blog, is my best friend.
For weeks I told her she is more than welcome to live with me and my dysfunctional parents, but it takes a little more than persuasion when you have to leave a three year relationship, and a cat. So, after a very reluctant struggle, I finally managed to convince her to move away from her abusive boyfriend.
But, picking up the pieces that her boyfriend left behind, was not an easy task, especially when I was broken myself. Can you fix something that is already broken? Of course, all you need is super glue or some gaffe tape. Or in my case, a best friend.
And as her best friend, I told her honestly that I was suffering with depression and anxiety, so I needed her support as well. Then I said, “it’ll be like a project, l’ll help you become yourself again and you can help me become myself again”.
We all lose ourselves at some point, but we can become ourselves again if we try.
-Me and my best friend.
I don’t think I’ll categorize this one into a step, merely because I’m typing this in a rush and and my thoughts are completely flurried.
I’ve got butterflies in my stomach because it’s my second shift at work (subway, ergh) and I still feel like a little girl getting butterflies over not wanting to go to swimming lessons. When will these nerves ever stop; its small, its meager, it’s a minuscule obstacle of my general anxiety that I face.