#self monologue

“To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.” ―Oscar Wilde

Loving oneself is an art. Setting me and my life apart Existing in the mirror is me Standing out is also me

Reflections that I Desire to perceive Was a masked demon Who came to deceive.

I hated the me in the mirror first. Nothing fitted my utmost thirst.

Loving oneself is an art. To learn it, nothing needs to be set apart.

Listen to your heart Which only speaks in silence. Learn this art The thirst of reflection is violence.

Feel your soul That will never cost a toll. Let out a smile Let that body be a beautiful isle.

A self monologue Ended with a satisfying epilogue. Fell in love with the one outside The mirror.

Braced up and smiled at the sight of mirror which seemed significantly more unimpeachable.

Like yk joking about trauma and that kind of stuff

My fear is a ghost that haunts the hallways

Of a school; a skeletal building now old and past its prime. Constantly regurgitating the laments of a girl unwilling to stick her neck out

because sometimes the dead could rise and bring her down with them.

My fear is the tension when a child does not

speak because of the rejection

that is always waiting behind closed doors. The door thumps, the edges splintering from the force within; the ghost in the hallway shrieks to be released.

My fear is both living and dead. Existing in the spaces in between; the silences, the eye contact and the quick touches.

When my mother says,

"Don't forget I want Grandchildren."

And my father replies with,

"I don't think she wants to," because he knows before I do--

Of course he does.

But the voices calling to me throughout time say "no" and I have long given up saying "yes" to bring a sense of self.

My fear is a cancer that refuses to be cured. A malignant disease passed through the generations of self-loathing

so ingrained that I wonder: do I hate myself or her?

Is it safe to step outside and breath the air? To shed this skin I wear and allow my bones to expose themselves;

love or hate? Fear or joy?

I’m in a place in my life where I am fighting my internal monologue quite a lot and winning sometimes!

...and sometimes when I hear myself I think: