my hair is long, it is light, my body is long, it is medium color, my breasts are small, most of the time i want to be taken away, i am prone to breathing too fast, i am lucky because i have always liked my body, i have never worried about it or my face or hair or cloths, but this doesn't mean i don't worry, i worry endlessly if i can ever get away from myself, i worry if i am loved by the people that tell me they love me, if i have a place to go when i need to go, if my brain is good enough to do anything important, i wonder what it means to keep up appearances, i don't understand why i cry as much as i do, i have more than i can handle, yet i want more...i don't understand how it is that i was born somewhere so far away with people so different than anyone around me now and i don't understand where they have all gone, i don't understand how i have lived so separately from my family and everything that seemed to be so comfortable to me, i don't understand why i don't make movies, i don't understand why i worry so much about being smart, most of the time i wish i could do myself a favor and...
i do know that i am not a kiss up and will never wear diamonds
i do know that my ankles are small, my lips and eyes are crooked, and my legs are long
