Cookie Cutter

Cookie Cutter

I’m tired

Tired of feeling like I don’t fit in

Don’t FIT period

Tired of telling myself that

If I could just mold myself

Starve myself

Sweat myself

Discipline myself

Into some semblance of

Somebody (some BODY)

Else, then I’ll finally

Be ok

Fit in

Get the guy

Have the job

Feel safe

Know I’ve got a place in this world

Because really, that’s what we’re all looking for

Isn’t it?

To have a place

– doesn’t have to be a place

On stage or in the spotlight,

But to have OUR place

And OUR people


Yes, to just magically be accepted

And loved

And sometimes kicked in the ass

So that we think and see and appreciate


But always knowing

That we BELONG

What if, instead of hating my

Imperfect body

Mental illness

Chipped teeth

Lack of a “real job”


I just leapt into the void

Of scary, terrifying

Full on ME-ness

And unabashedly embraced that crazy bitch?

Gave her some major high fives for showing up

Tossed those torture devices

Cookie cutters of SHOULD

Into the biggest landfill available


What if I surrounded myself

With people who love me for ME,

Not the me I could be

If only……..

And reminded me to cut that shit out

When I tell myself those lies?

Would I care that I was single?

Better than with someone

Who loves me less than I do.

Would I seize the day?

Better to travel on a dime

Than hide in a jail cell.

Would I dance and speak my mind?

If it makes it easier for others…

My manifesto is still being written,

But it starts here,

With this –

I’m tired of all the hate,

So I’m trying love



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