jpenseur; Introspective Personal Journal, Poetry, and Anthology.

It's never going to br you all the time, and that's okay. To accept that is to unveil your humility. It's clear. 

Gold is malleable. A precious metal that appreciates the more time and energy you put into refining it. Lustrous in its ability to reveal who people are, it holds its value. This is how I am choosing be. Choosing to see. Potential. Not hindered by a limiting belief, I can be whoever I want to be. Midas hands on my temple my mind is made of gold. Look deep into my thinking, and let go of what you hold. 

A lot of it weighs on me. 

The disparity lies in what I feel and what you think I feel when I leave you behind. I don't hold anything over you. You drift away and the sky is blue. When I leave, I  leave in my entirety. Completely displaced. Wholly new. A lonesome stranger you never knew. To be familiar is to be familiar with everything that had hurt me. It is all to say, that in my inner world, your existence is gone.

The sun feels nice on your skin when your bones feel like ice from everyday dread. The sun feels nice on your skin when your body is depraved of heat. The sun feels nice on your skin when your spirit lacks warmth. The air has body when the sun is out. Body against your skin—its been a long time since you felt good. Intimate. It feels close when she kisses you. It bring you life. She holds you where it hurts, and you suddenly feel better.

How can you know yourself entirely if you refuse to embrace your shadows? You are ugly in so many ways; it's foolish to think otherwise. I admit, it's been difficult for me to hold myself accountable for my ugliness but I am trying. 

Not everyone you meet is going to be build you up. Not everyone who is kind to your face intends to be kind to you behind your back. One thing to know about about people is, they pick apart the subjective you. The percieved good and bad. You will never hear the bad because the people who talk about it are kind. The kind that isn't good. To many people, showing kindness is a performance, and not a practice of goodness. Everyone wants to be liked, but no one wants to be going out of their way.  The loneliest people in the world are the ones who are kind to you even if they don't really mean it from the bottom of their heart. These days its feels like a betrayal to pretend.