I am very tired of perfection
I am very tired of whiteness. Of white and black.
I want brown. I want blue. I wan't green, red, indigo, violet, periwinkle.
I am very tired of constant violence.
the constant battle between the good and the blurred
I am very tired
of seeing friends so in love but not with themselves
I don't know how to love somebody if i can't love myself but thats just me
but again thats a blurred line but I say that i love myself
but I don't really
I love my body
I love the way it looks
that way my hips bulge
my breasts ripple
my tummy sinks when it's touched
But I hate the way my soul is
the way it forgets words and stumbles on explanations
the way it looks at what is meant to be a piece of art and cant see anything but the lines and colours
I hate that I lie
white lies to may myself seem more impressive
when all it is is just bored bravado (does that even make sense? I can't exactly remember what bravado means but i remember it's a word)
but white lies build and build until they become black and thick and impenetrable. like tar
I am very tired of everything right now and I need a rest
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