Skin. A beautiful thing.

You ever look at a girl who has stretch marks and think, "thats so empowing for her, shes beautiful."?

I do too.

Exept after the thought i look in the mirror at my own stretch marks and i feel that ive swallowed a sack of stones thats now left a stretch mark on my soul.


You might look at a guy who has messy hair and think, "oh, its so cute on him, he's handsom!".

Me too

But then i feel and see my own hair after every day, tangled and a mess, and i think to myself, "this is what my life feels like."

I always see woman wearing whatever they like, whatever they want, and it always looks amazing on them no matter what number is on the scale.

I wish I had that

And aftewords i try on a couple outfits of my own. I feel gross. Why does my stomach stick out? Why are my arms fat? Why are my legs big? Why are my shoulders wide? I feel like im getting heavier by the minute.

I see people who have scars, scars that are healed and resemble the battles that they have overcome.

Im so proud of those people.

But then i look at my own scars and wonder if they'll ever heal like that, or if they'll stay open like my mouth that will never shut up.

I see men who overcame their emotional suppression and have become as open as a book, letting themselves embrace their emotions instead of shipping them off as a note in a bottle stained by their tears.

But i think about it and my eyes begin to feel heavy, i feel as if my emotions are weighing me down and that im the one in the bottle now.

Skin. A beautiful thing for others, but a burden that has left a mark, a mess, a weight, a scar, and a stain on my soul that i feel will never heal.
© OvercookedQuill