fell asleep in the mirror the other day,
sick to death of comparing myself.
every word has already been written.
every government has been done.
every hairstyle has been tried.
but please don't give up on me.
I can't promise anything special or
put up anything as collateral except
that in the pit of my stomach I feel like there
is something worth the waiting and fruitless searches.
Truthfully, I'm more nervous about the hits then the misses
I want to break the mold, but I'm afraid to face what that means.
The world I live in both in my head and physically are very delicate.
The slightest crack can crumble it all I can't decide if that's a good thing.
I know what I don't want out of life, its the what I do want that's iffy. More
importantly, I just want to know that someone sees it, they look at me and see
what I think might be there. I want someone to believe in me,because no one ever really has.
meagan.
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