I don’t have long legs, long arms, or long fingers.
I am wider, shorter, more condensed than most- than most of those around me.
Who walk tall and high,
slender and graceful,
always prepared for a picture (the kind I usually take).
I wear my hair the way it falls,
my makeup isn’t daring,
my clothes are there to cover me up.
To be honest, I just stopped caring.
To keep up with it all would be a drag. I lack the motivation.
To look presentable,
to make myself known,
to open up and let others in,
to listen intently and learn from the best, to check myself
“where am I at?”,
to listen and love and "be who you are, and remember that Jesus loves you". How do they do it?
Keep it together?
Keep their mascara from running?
I’m lucky if I can breathe, stay inside, remain in my seat
instead of running.
So, simple as I am right now,
short and awkward and weird.
It’s the only way I can stay in this town. Til the mess that I am is healed.