move with the grace I've observed my whole life, not simply imitating the jumble of limbs scattered around me but to swing my arms freely and twirl with my eyes closed and head back. smiling. to dance like no one is watching, to forget my own clumsiness. the second left foot is only there because my anxiety has reshaped the arch of my toes to make me fall on my nose. if loved myself the way his eyes see me maybe I could really dance.

A gentle whisper

in an ear:

I see your soul

I smell good

I could take such

good care of you

Hit the streets in a bakers' hat and pass out balls of dough

Cover my body in glitter and dance to disco

Dress up in a fat suit, cartwheeling where I go

Make hybrid shark/sea monkeys to see just how they grow

Wear a full-head KISS mask and strut in a Speedo

Float a balloon overhead, dropping compliments wrapped in a rose

Toss multiple, colored smoke bombs, creating my own rainbows

Reveal my soul in the form of a poem and publish it on Prose.

If I were completely comfortable in my own skin, which let's be real - I'm not, I think I would start by loving my own body. As it stands, I am not comfortable with my physicality, which unfortunately lessens my feelings of desirability when it comes to the opposite sex, and on my worst days, even feelings of worthiness.

If I felt completely uninhibited, I'd probably say and do less, not more. I am an open book, volunteer information to people that aren't necessarily asking for it, and often over-share. I do this out of insecurity, mainly. I feel like if people don't know the "good parts" of me, or even the "bad parts" (obviously said humorously self-deprecatingly and endearingly, even intelligently), they will not bother getting to know me. Or liking me. Or loving me.

I also do too much. I compulsively tell people how I feel about them, mainly in the form of spilling my guts and feelings out to men, past and present, that I care about. I have a history of over-acting when it comes to making others aware of how I feel about them. I do this to make myself likeable and in hopes of getting something back from it, mainly reciprocity. But I can't lie and say sometimes I test waters just for drama's sake, when I'm ultra-bored and insecure and wanting some sense of excitement. I text people things wayyy too self-disclosing to get reactions. I kiss boys to show that I'm a good kisser. Sometimes I have sex because I'm afraid to stand up for myself and say no when, although not pressured or anything, I honestly don't feel up to it.

I'm a people-pleaser. I care too much about what other people think. I take the adage "life's too short, tell people what they mean to you" too seriously, and to extremes. I use some of those (not-so-wise) cliches about life and "living life to the fullest" as an excuse to make mistakes. I use it as an excuse to put myself out there when, in reality, I'm already "out there" enough, and could probably benefit from being silent, confident in who I am, without having to constantly blurt everything about myself out to people who, sometimes, don't even know me well. I should say those who ESPECIALLY don't know me well, as that is usually the case. Trying to prove I'm likeable without giving people a chance to get to know me at a slow, normal, easygoing pace.

I need to be at peace with who I am and not feel compelled to tell everyone who I am. I need, for once, to be approached instead of do the approaching. For once, I need to let good things come to me, instead of chasing them so obsessively.

If I were to be completely comfortable and uninhibited in my own skin, I'd do less compulsive over-sharing and over-acting. I'd, paradoxically enough, NOT tell people how I feel about them as much, especially if my reasons for that are selfish and insecurity-based. I'd only speak and act when I felt confident that I was doing so for the right reasons, and not to get some sense of reciprocity back.

Funnily enough, I never tell people how I feel about them if it's bad. Again, it goes back to people-pleasing and caring too much what others think.

That is what I would do if I felt comfortable in my own skin.

Damn, writing this was therapeutic!