|Shiny Dolled Up Faces
||[Jan. 13th, 2005|12:14 am]
|[||Feelings sumed up in one word
|||||maroon 5_ harder to breath||]|
A blank page. a fresh start. write what i want. what i feel. let my words flow out on to this page so my mind can be free from all the worry nad everyhting eles. worry. that is my job. it is dark now aside from the light of my computer screen. and im scared. scared from things that a 5 year old is. i see the black in the cracks of the door and think something or someone is out there waiting for me. or they are in my closet or behind my mirrior. most of all im scared maybe shes the one in the dark. she who brings my wrost fears. that part of me is the crazy part. the part of all girls. the part of girls that make us call on the phone but we have to quick and quiet. the part of us girls that makes us do things we would never do before. its deep down in all of us. rooted in us since we were little. raised with dreams of princesses and bueatiful girls with blonde hair and fair skin. with a little up turned nose and a voice of an angel. Our barbies, with thier big breats and tiny waists. i only had one ken doll so all my girls had to fight over him...and my prettiest barbie, the one with long shiny hair, the best clothes, and no scrapes or marker on her got ken.
She scares me. she does this no matter where she lives. she could live here. she could live in new york. she scares us girls. the better barbie doll.
She keeps me up at night. she hinds in my mirror, in my drawers, in my compact. she comes out just for a split second, enough time to make me self consicous. and then she crawls back to the dark hole she came from. a dark hole where she is scared of the same things as i. I scare her as much as she scares me. One battle never won. eyelashes never long enough, lips never plump enough, stomachs are never flat enough, hair never staight enough. Our looks will never be enough. every one knows my next line a little too well, looks do not matter.
but its her personality that scares me.
because mine will always be the soft spoken, the scarrted minded, the gigglier, the day dreamer, the needy, the complainer, the crier, the poet, the one with out a back bone.
i don't have the wit, the charm, im not a jokester, i don't have the intellgence, or the power to demand what i want.
one thing that scares her is the owner of the heart.