words by artist

i am always running forward so i don’t have to look down and see where my feet are landing.
—  we use the future to escape the present // abby // prompt for anon

I’m not the best but I’ll tell you how I’m better than the rest.
Five foot one but say it with your chest.
Buck o’ five, could you say it with your breast? Oh, I’m sorry, did I say breast?
“They only pick on you because they like you.”
Let me give credit where credit is due.
To that jackass and the other few.
Five foot one but on I grew.
“Sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you.”
Don’t worry, sit still dear, wait in queue.
If the scar tissue wasn’t evidence enough, those years were more than rough.
I was equipped with the ability to over love to compensate for a lack of self-love.
I gave them the excuses they needed, wise words I never heeded.
Now experience runs fruitful, it makes me all the more truthful.
Two guarantees of those surrounding me.
Everybody lies, everybody dies.
Often times it’s hard to decide, which version you wish they would rather reside.
Now an honesty that leaves no room for doubt.
From the rooftop I’d yell, “How do you like me now,” I’d shout.
Why do those people still sway the way I think, I feel.
But they gave me perspective so surreal.
So, now outside in, I’ve had the time to heal.
It gives me what they don’t have, I can choose who’s unapologetically real.

Some days I am too afraid
that I might miss life
while trying to portray it.
That I am too deep in thoughts
of colour and beauty
to actually see the shades
right in front of me.
—  // being an artist