There is a knot in my stomach,
But don't worry, my stomach acid is strong, and thick,
and is melting this knot into gush, stealing it's strength,
proving that with time and California sunshine, all things reduce to nothing.
But there are just so many of them,
And then, if I were to pursue them all, it would ruin me.
Because for some strange reason, I hold myself to these standards.
Which may not be high, not even close to as high as I can get,
But they are like an old road.
One so engraved into the earth, that even after years of being forgotten, still no plants will grow there
for fear of being trampled.
I fear being trampled,
Not by feet so much,
But by my own feelings, and by my own drive, and by my own dangerous mind.
Careening out of control on this forgotten, turn-on-a-dime, road.
It's driving too fast, and gaining the same complex as that of a drunkard.
No, I am not so arrogant that I consider myself unscathed.
No, I am not so chesty that I ignore the fact that this road leads right back to its beginning.
No, I am not so aloof as to think life isn't a compilation of loops and rings, of circles and the occasional loop-hole.
(which is more occasional than you might think, like the birth of a child.)
"I know you're beautiful"
and I know that you know you are as well.
So please stop fighting with the part of yourself that denies it,
because that part doesn't belong to you.
It belongs to the collective.
It thinks thoughts not of it's own,
It thinks thoughts that were written in ink before it.
But your thoughts are raw,
Your thoughts are jagged and rough and like sandpaper against the tongue.
And the most precious companion you can possess.
So throw all your preconceptions of what daily life is
off this bridge, and into the raging waters,
instead of your fragile body.
And let your stomach acid do its job.
It will break it all down for you, in time.