I want to feel good again. I want the insecurities and scars of memories to leave my mind. I want to not constantly look over my shoulder for the bad times that always seem to creep in when things feel calm.
I want to forget the nights I’ve cried because I was stupid and didn’t see warning signs. I want to forget about the people that hurt me because I know I wouldn’t dare let it happen again.
I want to remember how beautiful I am. I want to remember how the curvatures of my body are something to be envied and that I don’t need to hurt myself to feel pretty. I want to get out of this endless loop of contemplating and complaining, of vexing accusations and void statements.
I have words for how I feel but I also have none. I have fear. Fear of what could be and fear of what isn’t said.
I am too precious to lose, I know that. But I also feel like this loss would be a breath of fresh air, that everyone would be better off.
Importance, a state of being that I don’t remember. I want to feel important I want to be important. I want to be the one.
I don’t want to be forgotten.