i came across something that said "i fear i will be ripped open and found unsightly". i had to blink and breathe over that one for a second because i do not fear i will be ripped open by another. i fear, in my occasional impulsivity and inconsistent ability to exert self control, that i'll rip myself open and expose my unsightliness of my own accord. with every lunch i eat across a friend, each time i glance back at a boy, all the choices and micro-choices and split second moves i make, i kneel at my own feet, begging myself not to accidentally expose my inner ugliness. to be digestible and acceptable, or at least to be seen as such, is all i've ever wanted. yet i am only a girl, not a jar, and sometimes when i lay down on my side droplets of my ugliness leak out onto the surface beneath me. they are caustic and corrosive, and i hate them, yet they are a part of me that i cannot change. therefore i quarantine myself in my protective prison until the air is too resourceless to breathe and my bones are breaking through my skin from deprivation. that must be slightly unsightly. but it's okay, no one can see it.
