Growing up, my parents encouraged me to act.
But looks are important and they said I was fat.
They told me if I want to play the lead I’d have to lose weight.
So I started putting less food on my plate.
Then looks overwhelmed me, I longed for perfection.
Strived to be thin and have perfect complexion.
I hated my body, I hated myself.
I starved to lose weight, and down went my health.
When my mother would notice she’d tell me to eat.
But in my mind, if I did, it was an act of defeat.
When this disorder took over, no weight was low enough.
People’d say I was thin, but to me I was buff.
Years would pass by and my acting went on.
The roles I’d play were higher but my confidence was all gone.
When acting became a burden, I decided to take a break.
I needed time to heal and mend my heart ache.
I stopped wearing make up and started eating food.
I picked up an old hobby and it lightened my mood.
However this hobby wasn’t always a hobby, but a dream.
It’s something I wanted to be known for. It’s what I want to be.
My parents love to support me but only when I’m acting.
However, my passion for it is the only thing I’m lacking.
I know where my passion is, and where it’s always been hiding.
For it tucked itself away behind my love and yearn for writing.
I wanted to write novels at first, I’ll admit.
However I just don’t have the attention span for it.
So I turned to writing songs whenever I found free time
and that’s where I developed a great passion to rhyme.
I’m a big fan of music and the emotion it contains.
Through poetry I can express my oh so many pains.
I play a few instruments, practicing every now and then
but my favorite utensil is a piece of paper and pen.
It was a great way to explain and express myself openly.
I formed the lines as stanzas and it became poetry.
Some poems are short and others are long.
It depends on the theme and if my feelings for it are strong.
I write for the morbid, I write to relate
I write for the lives people need to appreciate.
I write to mend pain, I write to express
I write to spread awareness.
People don’t know what they don’t see.
I write and hope they understand what they read.
People can talk but not mean what they say.
While, I put genuine meaning into my poetry.
The question is though, “Why do I write and what it means to me?”
Well let me ask you this, “What does it make you feel like when you breathe?”