Anything that fills a hole inside is good. Even if it’s bad. If the holes aren’t filled then they never stop growing. Pressure from inside always building building building until finally you explode. I’m doing my best to avoid that. I’d like to live in peace. But let's be honest. I'm asking a lot here.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
Comments
Post a Comment