learning to love (and accept) the ugly - ORIGINAL PROSE

                                    

                                          
what it feels like to hurt:
there's arrows in my back and a knife in my side, my eyes are black and I can't see a thing. I'm better just keeping my eyes, ears and mouth shut before I lose my mind.
what it feels like to love:
a warm glow in my chest, followed by the comfort in knowing my place in the hearts of others. my lover's arms are a safe place I hope to stay forever, when my bones turn to dust and my laughter is carried by the wind into oblivion. you make me laugh like no one else.
what it feels like to be angry:
glass breaking, shattering beneath my hands. my palms are bleeding, a million tiny cuts litter my fingers. my ears feel hot, my heart beats too hard, too fast to control the screams which erupt from my throat like lava from a volcano. no, more like knives, arrows of their own. 
                          
what it feels like to be sad:
I'm falling to the centre of the earth, I'm floating amongst the stars, I'm sinking to the ocean's depths, but no matter what I'm alone. always alone.
what it feels like to be ugly:
boys will ask you out, but you will see their cruel smirks, their vicious grins. your heart sinks, but you know the games they play. their eyes tell you that no one will ever love you, and you can't help but believe them. you want to die every day of your life.
what it feels like to be pretty:
now you are older, your body is a battle ground for the desires of men. before, they mocked you at the mere idea of your beauty, your right to love and be loved, but now they take so much more. you knew their games then, but double standards and trends you can't keep up with sink beneath your skin and hook themselves around your bones. you 
                          
realise the water you've been swimming in your whole life, but the waves pull you back everytime you attempt to take refuge on dry land. you stopped eating to be thin, you tried to put it on in all the right places. your body is tired, it just wants to exist outside of desire and wants.
how it feels to exist:
I want to be ugly, I want to be smart, I want to scream when no one is watching and when they are, but most of all I want to sail into unknown territory with the wind to my back. I hear the alarm for a new day, but I'm lost in my dreams. I never want to wake up again.