I Am Nothing Special

I'd never admit it aloud but I'm delicate like the petals of a tiny rose. And at the same time, sharp like the thorns. I'm naive, so very naive. I rely on the idea that people are generally good, I can't help but be to trusting, to believe when someone tells me something no matter how fantastical it may seem. I know the world is wondrous, I've seen it crystalize and shimmer all on its own. That mystically dizzying spice has challenged me in a way nothing else could, or even dared. It knows no fear, nothing constantly breaks it down mentally or can stop it from growing psychically, it's an entity all of its own. I only wish I was so lucky, I'm self conscious. I couldn't count the number of times I've been told I'm special but no matter how many, dozens, hundreds, thousands? I could never believe it. Those kind words weren't meant for someone like me, someone who just goes with whatever comes her way, someone who knows there are millions of people exactly the same who are prettier, crazier and more special than I could ever hope to be. Someone who only fights back when it's absolutely necessary. I may have thorns but I'm not as strong as I pretend to be, I fall to fast and move on just as easily. I can say the words but even I don't know if I mean them. Have you ever changed your mind halfway through uttering something? Has the mere thought of someone loving you seemed only to fictional for you to ever believe, even if they stood right in front of you and shouted it in your face? That's how I've always been. I'll sit beside you, smile and ask you to believe me but I won't do the same, I can't. Every girl wants to sparkle and shine but I know that once you admit you're unique, once you believe you're completely insane, you have nothing left to offer. You're just the same crazy person you always were but now, now you've owned up to it. Now everyone knows you're in tuned with yourself and you no longer dazzle, no longer is your spark glimmering or your name on fire. You are just another silent entity tumbling around in this big place we call home. Your bubble has been popped, you're no longer living in a fairyland and you begin to wonder if it ever really existed.

Montanaman · M

"A Rose By Anyother Name"

Look at me.

You see yourself as a dandelion,

one of many, and not at all special:

Yet, still considered a flower by some.

In reality, You are a Rose,

deep, rich red, delicate passion pink.

Soft, satiny petals,

And yet, you do have your thorns.

You keep those around you at a distance.

Seemingly to be safe,

but there is nothing to be afraid of.

So look at me...

You are in your prime, your beauty is in full bloom.

Feel it, let it happen, it's become a part of you.

You have such a special gift, in which you deny yourself

the pleasure of your deep passions...

Decadent and starving.

Look at me.

Don't be afraid to feed yourself,

and taste all the pleasures that life has to offer.

Let yourself be loved.

But most important of all-

Love yourself.

For only then, can you look into a mirror-

And be happy with what you see.

Kelly.