Off Course

I'm looking for words. Reaching for them, leaving claws marks but my fingers never seem to get a hold on them.
I can't speak my mind clearly to your face, my eyes will burn when I look into yours.
I learned to use a pen and paper to walk away from my fears.
Ink leaves more satisfaction that my spit in the air and I don't know why.
I guess I was born like that, hiding from confrontation.

There's paint in my chopped short hair and that whole scenario kind of makes me sick to my stomach. For so long I wanted hair braided to my belt.
Maybe that goes to show that wanting something too much never works out anyway.

The word "than" just looked weird to me. Now we're getting off course.
But not really, I've never seemed to have one.

I want another tattoo.
They're so scoffed at and misunderstood.
But if words are what means the most to you then they would surely have meaning on skin.

There's a knot in my stomach that kind of stays hemmed up there.
Uncertain and leery, like maybe I've never really known what I wanted .
It changes everyday.
I had a thousand dreams of who I could become and I look in the mirror and don't see a single one.
That burns hot on my face.

I've come to wonder if people don't like my worst writing best because it's so bloody honest.
Because it's painful and pure and maybe they've stared in the mirror and thought the same gut wrenching things but just couldn't put words to it.
Or maybe they did but they were wiser than I to put it on a blog page for the world to see.
For the world to giggle at my childish insecurity.

I'm not really that broken.
I'm not unhappy.
I love the beautiful place I live in.
And I love the trees it hides me in.
This post really means nothing at all.
It's simply one wave of my emotions.

XoXo, Gussie