Self doubt.

More than just a concept, this life altering disposition is

the shit that climbs up

grabs you out your sleep

and kidnaps you away to a place where your authentic self is not accepted.

That space

That “am I pretty in the face?”

do my titties ever sit right?

are my miles worth the chase?

that staying up late wondering what to say

in that place….

…your conversations are uncomfortable.

And everything around you starts to look how you feel.

And what started as a disposition has created profound imposition on

basic little things like:

who you kick it with.

and the people you lay down with.

the words you speak with.

the faces you needed.

Any and everything that you thought you knew,

Words that you thought you controlled

are now your captor’s.

You have been taken.

You have been kidnapped.

The identity that you held in your hands with such fragility

is gone

Waking up is just as difficult as it is to go to sleep

and you sleep and sleep and sleep

you wash

you rinse

you repeat.

The

delectable magic of rediscovering yourself over small things;

A good plate of food,

or a hair-do that looks a lil better than it sounds…

your humor

your wit

has been restricted by some bitch

that came when you were sleeping and took you to a place where ransom notes dont exist.

And just when you cant stand to be bound by an invisible villain for another day

every dirty dish in America sits in your sink rotting

turning your house into the smell that you feel

your make up looks ridiculous because

girl

you are trying too hard to be real.

you are sitting at some bar

on some night

at some time

with some drink

imagining what it would be like to end the game

The superhero,

A protagonist,

A champion defeater of “Self Doubt”,

Asks you your name….

- Aunt Flo

(PS - Keep in mind that I’m an artist. And I’m sensitive about my shit).