Anxiety



It swallows me whole
I don't know why
Or when
But it simply does 
My heartbeat quickens
My breathing slows 
I feel as though I'm swallowing honey
My stomach hurts;
from the sweetness
The bee stings me;
for taking it's hard work
And it spreads on my delicate skin
Swelling all over my body 
My veins feel as though
there's sand in them
I'm sinking into my mind
Slowly but steadily 
I'm gone

Fashion is My Art

People always tell me that they like the way I dress and that I look cool. This makes me feel really nice but I don't really care. My mom is always rolling her eyes and telling me I should dress more like a lady but I don't really care. Trends tell me I should start wearing crushed velvet because corduroy is so last year but I don't really care.

The way I dress reflects my inner self. A lot of people can comment and criticize my obesession with sales, *cough cough* my boyfriend, but I don't see my shopping addiction as materialistic like everyone else. My collection of clothes put a smile on my face whenever I look at it. All of my items are organized by season and certain categories. Dresses go with other dresses and rompers. Long sleeves go with my other long sleeves. All my sweaters have a nice little section to themselves. My shoes are organized by heel size and whether they're boots, sandals, or sneakers. Everything has a place and I'm proud of it.

Now to get to the part where I believe my love of clothes doesn't make me materialistic and to prove I'm not as shallow as I probably seem. My clothes are my art. I draw and I dance but this is something I do every single day. Some times multiple times a day. Picking out clothes and making myself appear the way I want to be perceived that day is art to me. I take pride in my outfits because I know nobody would've thought to put these pieces together, just me. An outfit can make me feel like I can take over the world and an outfit can make me feel more confident than ever.

My Clothes Are My Art