She sleeps silently as I get out of bed. I imagine not leaving, wrapping myself around her warm body and not letting go. But that’s a pleasant dream and sadly I’m awake. Time is pushing from my desire, pulling me into the world. Giving in is up to me.
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.
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