Im Not Enough - Tumblr Posts
Sometimes, when my body is not strong enough to rise up, or even wake up from the bed, my mind interferes and imagine what i can just belong for. I guess that's what I've been calling dreams, but I am consciously about them. It usually takes me more time to wake up everytime this happens, is like an over and over reaction:
A patron that never ends, you can just be sure that in some moment it would finally feel gross and that's your singed for brush your teeth and take a bath.
And yes, waking up finally happens, but the feeling of weakness around your body still there, throughout all the day, in the middle of your fingers, in the deep of your soul, your mind knows and your heavy breaths scream the truth.
Della.
I know I like to dance because it has never been so difficult for me. Being difficult makes me a good ballerina.
I was a good ballerina.
Yes, I was good at what I did, nothing more than it was never noticed because I had to be good at everything I did, so just that I enjoyed it was overshadowed by pure perfection, perfection that only stayed in my house and outside, outside into a hole, from inside to outside there was never anything more than smiles agreeing to everything, nothing was ever expected from me but promises of a future like the best, after me there was never anything better. Nothing better than her.
Nothing was ever good. It is impossible to maintain perfection.
She at least told me that. She liked things to be disastrous in perfect harmony. One that only I was able to see. And I knew that only I was capable of seeing it because I never felt forced to do so. It was just there. And his presence made me feel more and more alive. I rose up higher than a grand jeté, I rose into the air with thousands of twists and counter-turns that made me vomit pink, blue, yellow, green and red butterflies, I became dizzy in the most tender and innocent way I have ever set foot in this world. Nothing was ever the same in this hole universe. She held me in a way that even she wasn't aware of how much it hurt me every time she let me fall. Not even an injury hurt that much. But they always told me that if there is no blood, the pain is not important. Furthermore, I didn't feel any pain when I jumped again. Everything turns pink when I see you again. Everything turns into summer.
Then I remember why I don't like the summer heat. A strawberry popsicle lasts until the rays hit it and fracture is inevitable. The fall and the sticky drips of summer with the tears it brings become inevitable and present in all the body that still remains on this earth.
Because That's it. A dancer is firm and does not take her feet off the ground, not forever. Always with head held high. Always firm. Always alone about something. And me, I was a good ballerina.
Tomorrow is my birthday and I don't know why I feel like crying if you're not with me. My birthday was never important, that rules out the fact that I want a party, am I asking too much when I want a hug of yours?
This sounds so human that it makes my chest clench. This is what she would have wanted. For the first time I'm going to jump out alone and say that I prefer to say that; I was just a good dancer.
Della.
Hopefully tomorrow you will still be in my mind and forever and ever I will remember you. This ballet dancer will love you.
I wish I was enough for someone.
When you're texting someone and you're having really good time but suddenly they leave because they found someone better and you're like....ummm okay whatever....
Yeah I love that shit
I shouldn’t have kissed you because now the only thing I can think about is how your hands felt on my skin and the words you said that broke my heart.. 😭