3therealwriting

[3therealwriting]

mother earth is my muse besides the girl in the mirror.

[3therealwriting]

I exploded in my room

My innards cover the walls of which I reside

My breathe fills every empty space

My walls pull me in

The only safe place I feel

Every inch is stained with me

The one bare wall mocks me

“Cover me” it says.

My carpeted floor begs for a vacuum

Matted by my feet dancing over and over on it

Echoing the joy I have alone with me and music

I bleed all over this confinement of mine

My everything is on display

I look to my wall above my bed

My heart hangs on the wall

Their eyes bore into mine

“Look at me” they say.

My memories surround it with fondness

I can taste their whispers and secrets

I feel possessive of my space

As if it were my own body

The few things I have claim over

It’s like looking in the mirror

We are one of the same

I am my room

My room is m

[3therealwriting]

A whale in a teacup:

“a whale”

I see in my reflection.

I tell myself connecting my eyes with my body.

I see every lump;

every bump

every flaw

every crease

every ick

I push and pull; poke and prod

“a whale in Walmart clothes”

Forget lipstick on a pig.

My oink turn to song.

I squeeze my way into the room with my skinny friends

Taking up space;

(that is a metaphor)

They pretend to not see my blubber; they’re too nice.

“a whale in a teacup”

Forget a bull in a china shop.

I dont’ fit....socially and physically

I feel ginormous

huge

gigantic

monstrous

big

fatty

enormous

massive

I am guilty to taking; stealing too much space

They say it’s okay – but they lie.

Because I know

I am just a

whale in a teacup