I’ve always had grandiose ideas of what my life should be.
How I would create the perfect love story.
Embody the image of beauty and sensuality.
Provoke thoughts and ideas that would start movements.
Have a career that was well off and sought after.
And have a home that sits on the edge of a beach somewhere warm and inviting.
Many of my loves have slipped through my fingers, one of them ended tragically.
I have struggled with my appearance my whole life.
My mind had led me to isolation so deep at one point I thought the world was better without me.
My successes were short lived and often ended in failure.
But one I am grateful for, though it doesn’t sit on a beach- I have a loving home.
With small feet that toddle on the carpets
And heads that sleep in small beds.
It’s just us three.
But its more profound to me than any dream I ever had.
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