I’ll break my own heart 12 times
before you’ve even put creamer in your morning coffee.
I’ll bombard myself with spam and hate mail
while you read the daily horoscope.
I’ll cry the hot angry tears of despair
and you’ll take a stroll.
I’ll shout the voiceless disappointment, the frustration
when you say, “what time is it?”
- How thin my hair is
- How torn up my legs look
- Whether it looks like I have lost or gained (especially the gained.)
- How tired I look
- How closed I am
- The assumed chaos on the walls of my room
- How good of a drawer or writer I am
- How I should live my life
- My mistakes
I guess it could go on. Generally, I don’t handle face to face compliments well and for anyone to realise that I am only human makes me extremely anxious.