It aches… the inadequacy pounds against my body as the earth shakes with every inhale and cracks with every exhale. I can’t find clothes that fit over my damaged parts, Make up that doesn’t drip off my scars. The universe see’s right through me. I’ve offered my mind, my spirit, my body, and in return I was gifted anxiety, depression, and insecurity. I hide under hazes of sleep because it numbs the hollow aches, I jump into loud crowds and fumbled motions because it disguises the tears and trades cheap smiles for discounted relationships. I allow the ones I love to justify their flaws within me, I ache to be desired, to be craved to be wanted. I’m selfish. I want to be chosen but not by default. I wish I wasn’t weak enough to sweep the lies of others underneath my own damn rug, I wish I didn’t allow love to outshine my disappointments to create unhealthy acceptance. I wish I didn’t treat myself like a stranger in my own soul. I wish I was strong enough to drag the dirt out of myself… But it aches.