The Negotiate.Her. (free write)

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I used to only want the best for me.

Held my head up so high, even the sky seemed limiting. Like butter, my self-esteem spread over everything… how I used to be, who I was, and what I will be.

Now here I am… still standing.

Legs shaking, as I desperately try not to fall to my knees… See, life’s endless testing made me too weak to carry my self-esteem. So completely unworthy… I resort to bargaining.

I will take your half-heartedness, but… well maybe you can at least give me the right half of it…

I will make-do with your eye wondering. It.. has to land on me eventually…

I can stand being forgotten occasionally… besides, I was born being lonely.

I will make do with your day-late wishes, forced smiles, weak hugs and cold love…….. Yes, I think this… this is good enough.

Selling my heart at a discounted rate… In exchange for… this thing……. should be ashamed to beg for something I can’t even give a proper name…

Just. Please. Give me what you can and I will work with what I get.

I will forgive what you forget.

I will learn to live with being the next best thing after the last thing, if that means I’ll have reason to be. I have no right to demand anything, but please,

Just…

Leave me this thing.

Shhhhhhhh

I’ve cried everyday this week.

I should have been more specific when I prayed for consistency.

Afraid to think because thoughts open vaults that hold spinning records of bruised melodies, buried histories, and harmonies of dark memories, and…

I’m just tired of listening.

The pulled strings of my nerves serve as the acoustics.

I guess even thrillers require theme music.

The dramatics of my anatomy is entirely tiring. So I’ve prayed for silence, and ever since, when I hear those records turning- flooding inside of me with rhythms of catastrophe, naturally my eyes get watery.

Thankfully,

I’ve always cried quietly.