Topic: You'd just die if anyone ever saw this diary entry
I am a jealous woman. I am a woman with curves from here to the end of the Appalachian trail, eyes as wide as Lake Nockmaxon and a smile as bright as the summer clouds pierced by the top of a steeple. I am nothing to be ashamed of. Thighs so thick that the thunder clapping in the background makes him roll his eyes back into his head with exhaustion, mouth gaping wide as his legs open wider. My hands are as fragile as my grandmother's as I type and look this way and that, as sensitive as a bird flying away as soon as a tree branch drops. Why am I this way?
You don't look at me the way you used to, talk to me the way you used to. You blankly stare into the summertime blue abyss biding time as the petals from this month's blooms float past your distracted eyes.
I do feel like I'm nothing to you.
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