Who am I? I am pessimistic and optimistic. A hopeless romantic, but also realistic. I find beauty in unexpected places and people, and yet I’m very judgmental. I have so much to say, but don’t like to talk. I have a big heart but haven’t really had the chance to use it. Apparently all these things can be true at the same time: and that’s the problem with identity. It’s everything and nothing, both authentic and inauthentic. There is no one version of me, I’m always changing, with every day, every new situation, every new person I encounter, with every friend I lose. Things change. So does identity. We want different things. We grow. We learn from our mistakes. Or we don’t. Either way, we aren’t who we were yesterday. So today I’m a hopeless romantic. Tomorrow I think all that is bullshit. The day after that? Who knows?
I’ve gained some weight but you don’t care.
And when you look at me,
I see the same hunger in your eyes as that first night.
My body’s stretched and I’m self conscious about the markings
but you still run your fingers across my hips with no hesitation.
I don’t know if I’m beautiful but I know that you think so.
dflm (via nc-17)