okay then.

Oh, unending stream of criticism in my head.

Will you ever run out of words?

Why is it so hard to believe that I am who You say I am?
Put together just the way you wanted.
Poured out into the body you designed.
Crafted into this person...that confounds me daily.

I enjoy chocolate cookies
and pizza
and cheese/crackers/salami
and all things "unhealthy".
I'm a walking klutz, unless I'm on ice.
Then I feel like a ballerina.
I spill, I trip, I snort, I sob.

I am a landmine of emotions.

Get out, get out, get out.