I’m starting to believe the lies I feed myself.
I’m starting to paint my room with normal trappings,
making my surroundings mine,
imposing structure and routine,
when a part of me wants to run screaming away from here,
knowing deep in my heart,
she is just scared,
afraid to let go of what she imagines to be security,
afraid to completely embrace
what she has spent her entire life watching happen around her –
people come and go and let you down when you need them the most.
I get it but just because I understand it, doesn’t mean it hurts any less.
I am just as good as any man,
and then some.