I made sourdough 🍞

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@untemperedferality
I made sourdough 🍞
I have written this over and over and over again
Talking myself in and out of fault
In and out of reality
In and out of my mind
About how it’s all my fault
It’s all your fault
All our fault
About how you’re a hypocrite
But I’m a hypocrite
We’re hypocrites
I want to be alone but I don’t
I want to scream but I won’t
I want to hurt myself but haven’t
A walking paradox
I had a dream that you sat close to me on a bench
You whispered something into my ear (I wish I could remember what)
And kissed me on the cheek.
Physical intimacy that I didn’t expect
Innocent and kind, nothing else
Is that really you?
Hard to believe I matter, I’d rather you were cruel
Vanity Post 2:
Sun kissed and blessed by the promise of fall. I let myself see the light more often and open myself to new things. I am ever changing, ever growing. The nine year old looking in the mirror, being called vain by her father, is not the same me now. I no longer flinch or try to make myself as small as possible. Instead, I bloom.
Vanity Post 1:
I’m seven years old, getting pushed in class and my fat pinched.
The guidance counselor tells me to brush it off. I’m forced in a room with my bully. She calls me ugly on our way back to class.
I stop eating for the first time. I don’t like myself for the first time.
Now I’m twenty-seven years old. I still struggle, I still fight with myself. But I’m finding me. I’m working through it and through time I’m learning to love me.
This is the start of the Vanity Journals.
The sunflower at the corner by the coffee shop still grows each year. Even if your love is long gone and I can no longer remember your touch.
I wish my whole world was flowers and trees with a breeze.
To be carried by the wind and the water from place to place.
Vilnius, Lithuania
I don’t think there’s a place I miss more