It always makes me happy,
sometimes enough to tear up.
It’s so amazing.
I simply can’t explain the
amount of joy you give me.
Thank you for your smile.
“Gain some weight asshole”
How do you think that makes me feel?
I can’t help that I’m skinny,
just as you can’t help being the size you are.
Are you telling me that, because I’m a male,
I’m required to be muscular?
Or, were you just showing off for your
“It’s OK, there’s nothing to be scared of.”
A shaky mantra, spoken ad nausea.
It never works. It only makes things worse.
When the environment bears down on you in
that oppressing form that induces panic…
Those silly words don’t do anything.
Restriction, stuck in the thick mud.
The surroundings spin, the blur of the world.
The shakes start from the inside, as palpitations.
They work their way out from the core.
Air thins as the limbs grow weak from the lack of blood.
Everything catches up and takes it’s toll.
The inner critic.
It’s always there…
Scorning you, pushing you into the mud.
It influences you, influencing the loathing.
You have to beat it down, it’s not worth
wasting your time listening to it.
Just as an unwelcome house guest,
push it out the door.
The inner critic can turn you against yourself.
It can draw you to the depths of inner conflict.
Look at that drawing, it’s ugly…
But you can’t let those thoughts have precedence
over the good thoughts.
You can’t give those thoughts any power.
They are worthless and not worth your time.
They don’t dislike you, they don’t even know you.
Fight against the power of persuasion.
The persuasion that your mind has over you.