i used to do it for the attention
the likes
the retweets
the comments
on my pictures
on my tweets
on my statuses
on me

they made me feel validated
safe
secure
accepted
“you are good” my brain translated
“they like you” it went ?on, “that’s good"

they made me feel like i
belonged
somewhere

until they didn’t.

until i felt
numb
in the head
the words didn’t mean anything
the attention wasn’t enough

until i
couldn’t look myself in the mirror
without hating who i was
who i
became?
who i
who i
who i
who am i?

who
am
i?

and so i was forced to realize
forced — for if i didn’t, i may have died
i forced myself
to stop
i forced myself
to come to the conclusion
other people’s words did not matter
they did not matter

for if i let them matter
then i may have broken
to the point
that i could not put myself back together

“they matter” my brain told me.
“no, they do not.” said my mouth. “they do not matter.”
“yes they do.”
“no they don’t.”
“they— ?”
“— don’t.”
“but — “
“they don’t.”
“th— “
“”they don’t matter.”
“you don’t believe— “
“whether or not i believe, they still do not matter.”
“they won’t accept you.”
“they don’t have to.”
“they won’t love you.”
“but i will."
“but — “

“they,” i said
to the ‘me’ in the mirror
slowly
surely
determinedly
“do not matter."

they did not matter they did not matter  they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter they did not matter

for the only one that mattered
the only opinion that mattered
the only validation that mattered

was mine.

Now we've come to the end
And I have so much to thank you for
so thank you for wasting my time
for making me second guess every move I make
for helping me weave a tapestry for my teenage years
one laced with paranoia and bad timing
thank you for pushing me away
which forces me to let go
forces me to grow and wrap my arms around myself
instead of you
thank you for forcing me to put the care and effort into myself
for making me less hollow
by leaving
Thank you for letting me know you didn't care
and that's okay because now I know it wasn't my fault
thank you for letting me breath

Shoulders back
Head up
Breath.

Weave through the crowd
faster
yet slower
shoulders back, straight posture.

An opening ahead
clear space
light seeping through.

Like a moth to a flame.
Pose
and wait
breath in, breath out.

Surrounded by silence
than by darkness
the first tunes strike.

Head up
a broad smile
spotlight on
dance.

Move
spin
jump and mesmerize.

Tunes fade away
applaud is roaring
the smile fades.
Do I dance for myself or do I dance for validation?

MJR 11/01-18

I cannot take a compliment.
Or so I've been told.
Yet I still have to accept them, like unwanted gift cards on my birthday.

Compliments.
They are not taken.
They are given.
Even if they are not needed.

I've been told all my life I can't take one.
Then why must you insist of giving them?

I understand, I do.

A close friend speaking from kind admiration is sweet.

But listen.

A wildflower does not need validation.
It grows despite any spoken words.

Dandelions require sweet nothings,
The whispering kindness of desire.

It takes little more than a breath to blow them over,
They break underneath anything other than quiet breaths.

I am a sunflower.
I stand tall and proud beneath a hot sun.

I grow to my own height and no one else's.
I sway beneath unkind assaults, and it takes more than battering words to break me.

So try to understand, I don't need your reassurances.
Tell me not what I am, but what I do to you.

In a world full of weeds, try to grow a little wild.

There you are- minding your own **** business
Getting the **** done that you need to get done
And it hits you
A ******* papercut

Funny how something so seemingly harmless and innocent
Can cause so little damage
That bothers you so ******* much
A drop of blood and days of discomfort

Something so miniscule disrupting the simplest of tasks
Stinging like screams for attention
How are you supposed to move on
And make lemonade out of what life hands you
When the juice stings your fingertips
When relief is only resolved
When the issue is acknowledged.

But it’s fine you know
Everything is fine
Plenty of people use paper everyday and live to tell the tale
So really it’s not a big deal
Get enough and your fingertips will callus over
Soft things don’t go well with hard edges
Maybe by not being soft, then you can get more **** done

But by getting hard you’ll feel less
And wouldn’t it be nice to feel all things
Knowing fully well it’s worth the pain of a ******* paper cut

One more hour in the job I love
Then they ****** it all away
Too many letters in my last name
And I won’t join the games they play

One more hour in my office home
Before it becomes not mine
They took away the reason why
I need a space to spend my time

I’m sitting in a dunking booth
My chair held by a pin
The ***** are going to come my way
Which one will tip me in

Which lame excuse will be the one
They hand me on a plate
Which evil lie will be pronounced
To seal my future fate

Fifty minutes left to carve
The end of my career
Until they push me out to starve
And turn a deafened ear

Or maybe only cut my time
To watch me slowly bleed
And later do the coupe de grace
As they eliminate my need

The time is slowly racing by
My calm is wearing thin
I’ve tried so hard to handle this
To walk out with a grin

But jitterbugs have made their home
In all my quiet places
My throat is learning to seize up
And spoil my placid faces

My mind has owned the coming doom
But my belly missed the memo
I vowed to not succumb to gloom
And ride out in a limo

The hour is up - the hatchet *****
Has done her thing and gone
It hurts much more than I had guessed
I’m not sure I can carry on

What goes around will come around
A saying tried and true
I grab the courage I just found
And know I’ll make it through

ONE HUNDRED HOURS LATER

I’ve found a way to stay afloat
I’ve given it much thought
Perhaps the Gods will smile on me
And I’ll end up on a yacht.

The people I’ve dealt fairly with
Have rallied round my cause
They’re going to help me find a way
To sidestep hunger’s jaws

There is a path that I’d not seen
That leads to greater riches
And I will now begin that walk
And spite those loathsome *******

Who thought that they could throw me out
Like Sunday morning trash
With never a thought of what I’d use
For weekly grocery cash

What goes around has come around
To me - I’ll be just fine
The people that I’ve served so well
Have helped me cross the line

The storm has finally passed me by
I see an end to sadness
I now know I can carry on
Despite their evil badness.

So now my time has ended here
I’m wistful but not crying
I’ve seen a sunrise just ahead
And I’ve new wings for flying

ljm

I’m 5’9”, loud and strong. 

I’ve got big hair, perfect brows and a straight back.

I radiate confidence, sexuality and metaphorical ***** as my curvy hourglass figure walks with purpose down the street.

My attitude says “There’s nothing I can not do.”

My eyes say “You wanna fight? I’m ready.”

To them, I’m a lioness. 

I protect all that is mine — except from myself. 

Behind the facade, I am small. 

Behind my words, I am afraid. 

Behind my sunglasses, my eyes are wet. 

And under my luxury lingerie, I am naked, just like my soul is when I’m writing.

I’m not who they think I am, are you?