My entire body is sore but at least the time goes by quickly. And it’s almost quitting time before I know it. So I hustle through the last hour my head filled with thoughts of being at home out of these clothes. A hot shower and a belly full of food. The arms of the woman I love wrapped around my waist. When he gives me my money I leave like a storm.
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