(AmIHere)

My Thoughts
2022-01-23 19:59:00 (UTC)

As much as I wanted it to be ..

As much as I wanted it to be me that was chosen, I always knew deep down that it wouldn't be.
As much as I longed to be yours, I knew I wouldn't pass the tests.
As much as I tried, I could never try hard enough.
As much as I wanted to be your first choice, I knew I'd be last.

A person can want, and long for someone all they want, but in the end I am never the first choice, I am never the one. Perhaps my mind plays to my own demise telling me that I am worthless and not worthy, but even on the good days I knew I would never be the one. I can't get myself out of my head long enough to see my own worth, and lack of confidence isn't something people want. Everyone has this idea that a woman is supposed to be confident and know their worth and not settle for anything less than they deserve. But what about the people like me, the bruised, the broken, the ones that never had anyone to show them their worth. We will never be someone's first choice, because no one wants to do the work, no one wants to help us through our battles, no not save us, but help us, motivate us, just be there when we need you.

It's the bruised and the broken that make the most beautiful people inside and out once they are able to be nourished into their own potential. They are the ones that will literally do anything for someone they care about just because they know what its like. Perhaps us broken and bruised people should come together and help raise each other up, be the light in our darkness to help guide the way. So I ask you my broken and bruised people, how do we help each other? because I don't know about you, but I could sure use a hand right now, the path ahead looks so dark and dreary that I don't know that it won't consume me this time. I've already managed to push away people in my life, specifically telling them that they deserve more than I could ever give. next step is getting stuck in the endless spiral of a battle of trying to live each day. I've been lucky enough to not reach the last stage, but this time feels stronger than others. The pull of the darkness from within is holding me like a clamp on a piece of wood. It holds me like I am its last bit of oxygen before the fire goes out. It holds like a knife stuck in my back but if I pull it out I'll surly bleed to death.

Being bruised and broken doesn't mean worthless, I know this, but I feel that way with every single fiber of my being. like nothing more than a speck of dirt on the bottom of a shoe.




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