#whenhesmiles

[jduvillanueva]

😃 #mamawonders #mamamoments #mamapapajoaqsjax #whenhesmiles

[song-of-the-world]

Tattered Anatomy (When He Smiles)

My feet. Have walked millions of miles in everyone else’s shoes but I still feel like I cannot fathom what they have went through. But everyone else seems to assume they know all of what I have experienced and not taken a single step. Maybe it is because my feet have been walking in shoes that have thin soles, holes in the toes, crooked tongues, and a nail in the heal. Every step of everyday is painful. But I keep running. And pushing. Despite my sore and bloody feet. I will crawl if I have to. Just to see his smile. My legs. Bruised and scarred. They have been hit and battered. The abuse has made them rock solid. The more you kick and shove the stronger they become. Becoming trunks of trees that keep me standing through the icy storm. But every time he looks at me they crumple. They shake and feel as though they have no bones. The rock turns to dust when he smiles at me. My well… Netherlands. Oh Fuck it. My Vagina. Hasn’t been touched in what seems like a thousand years. And I will probably wait a thousand more. It has never been my first priority. And really hasn’t made the line up since that one night in a big house with someone who I will never see again. It is the one object that apparently men have more control over than women do. So maybe if I keep it hidden. Raise a few bats, it will go unnoticed and I won’t have to worry about pre-existing conditions, and whatnot. But when he smiles. Well I guess that is the oxytocin working its magic. My stomach. I felt butterflies. The cramps. The punches. And the emptiness. But mostly it is my keeper of boxes. To my left side is my depression. A huge mass that has been shoved and compressed into a tiny box. A dark aura surrounds it warning myself to not touch it. On the right are my concealed emotions. I keep them hidden so I am not guilty of pushing my emotions on someone else. It is my burden to bare. I do not wish for pity as I keep them locked in the prison. In the center pushing up against my diaphragm is my anxiety. If it opens it restricts my breathing even more and I find myself on the floor hating the way it makes me feel… not feel… I can’t tell the difference because my anxiety comes from my tendency to be controlled. Not control others. But control myself. Hence the boxes. Every box explodes inside me simultaneously and I am afraid that I cannot feel anything but hate to feel everything and anxious that I cannot find balance. But Suppression. It has kept me alive. It has created the mask that makes others happy. It is the mask that he smiles at. My breasts. I have never had the issue of unwanted eyes. At least not that I have noticed. I have never been cat called or whistled at. Don’t get me wrong I am not complaining. But I just don’t understand what all these girls are talking about…? Leave it to me to have the superpower to make double D’s look like A’s. But is it a superpower or a curse. I just wish that he would smile at me that way… My shoulders. Carry the wait of the world. And problems that I don’t intend to be my problems; but they are detrimental to other girls. Clothes do not wrap themselves around my body and hang on my shoulders the way they do on every normal person. I cannot wear that dress as a dress because I don’t feel comfortable showing my nickers to the great wide world of judgment. I can’t wear those shorts because the length of my thighs make them look like Daisy Dukes Cut-Offs. I can’t wear women’s sizes because the stars never align just right to have an XL actually fit me the way an XL should. Thank God I am not in High School anymore because I would get bored of wearing jeans and a t-shirt everyday. But my problems don’t just end at clothes. The problem about being a people pleaser is there is always someone that you can’t please. Yourself. I haven’t gotten what I wanted since… well i guess the last time because I don’t remember anymore. It is especially disheartening when you can’t do enough to get who you want either. Oh to see his smile everyday would be the one thing I could ask for. Arms. I have had a love/hate relationship from the beginning. I want to cover them with the sleeves of tattoos I have planned since my first tattoo. To have them crawl up my arms and hide my insecurities and give me strength and confidence. But how they crave to hold you. They reach for someone to hold but there is never anyone that is there to satisfy their cravings. As much as they wish to have purpose it is a wonder that they haven’t learned to fly. Wouldn’t that be something that he would smile at? My hands. I dress my fingers with rings to distract from the scars. The character that I have forced on my hands. In places they are calloused from hard work, other places they are softer than warmed butter. They tell me that it is empathic; what I feel through my hands. Because if I reached out to caress your face I would feel it on my own. I could trace all of the lines of your body ever so softly with just my fingertips and I would feel every inch of your skin rise in goosebumps. I would stretch my palm against your chest that is hidden behind hair and feel your heartbeat and mine would match yours. But on their own. Without you and your smile. They do not feel. The cuts were done out of numbness. I didn’t do it to feel. It was almost as if that was the most interesting thing that I could do with my hands. They did not feel pain. Just like they did not feel the pain when I burned myself with the eraser of my pencil. Not once was a pressured into torturing my hands. But I never scarred them with any intention either. So they hide amongst rings and nail polish. I am not embarrassed of my scars… but I am afraid they will take away his smile. Head. Brain. Thoughts. I am over there, but still right here. Do you remember that one time you were rejected by that guy? Or that feeling you had last week? Yea that was the worst. Oh but that Corgi video was so cute. But how could people be so selfish? Did you know that you will probably never change this world for the better? Just a reminder, he will never have feelings for you the way you have feelings for him. You don’t deserve it. Oh and to answer your question: yes, your life will always bee this miserable no matter how many cute animal videos you watch. But so you don’t tell me to shut up here is a picture of his smile that you can look at for a while while I brain wash you into thinking you have a chance and then crushing your dreams with the fear of rejection. —- Gah. Well. Yes that basically explains it. MOVING ON! Last. But definitely not least. My heart. My heart has been broken, beaten, drug through the dirt, it is wrapped with vines littered with thorns, don’t you dare expect it to mend so easily. These ribs are not a cage but protection. I have built up walls that are thicker than the walls if the largest vault. They are more impenetrable than the space that divides parallel universes. You will not tear down these walls that encase my heart because I have been burned before. My heart is charred and tainted with the marks of mistreatment and misunderstanding. It has been disregarded and rejected by those who I thought would be there forever. But now it is chipped and fragile like broken china after a hurricane. Not even WWIII would be able to claim the unmarked territory because…

This body has taken more than what any man could do to it. But every once in a while. When he smiles… my heart peeks through a window to admire the sunshine and take a break from the darkness that it has been living in for 12 years.

[evertataforever]

วันนี้ดีใจที่ได้เห็นรอยยิ้ม' คุณลุงเมื่อยใกล้ๆแล้ว😁😁😁อิอิ ปล.หวังว่าคุณลุงบอลจะชอบของขวัญชิ้นน้อยชิ้นนี้นะคะ⭐️. ช่วงนี้อากาศเปลี่ยนแปลงบ่อย ดูแลสุขภาพด้วยนะครับ💙💙💙😊 แล้วเจอกันเมื่อโอกาสอำนวยค่ะ💛💛💛 ปล2.ขอบคุณเพื่อนกุ้งด้วยนะที่มาสนุกด้วยกันและถ่ายรูปล้านช็อตให้อิอิ🦐😘 #scrubbband #scrubb #whenhesmiles :-))) #tatahappyhappy #tatassp🙆💚😌 (ที่ My Kitchen at Siam Discovery)