old journals

Came across an old journal today and thought I'd share a poem. This one in particular doesn't come with a title. I once had a friend who struggled with self-image, faith and smoking. She exercised more often than anyone I knew. She had a great faith, but didn't know what this faith was in. As for the smoking part, she always said she wanted to quit, but never did, maybe never even tried. A line in the poem brought back a memory, "Don't look down . You're still there." She would often look down at her stomach. Sometimes she'd even lift up her shirt. I wondered what was going through her mind. She is one of the most beautiful people I know. She is also one of the thinnest people I know.

Everyone loved this girl, and she deserved this, but because everyone wanted to spend time with her, that made her busy. So busy that sometimes she'd forget to return my phone calls and others' phone calls as well. I don't think she saw that she hurt us, and I never told her she did. I suddenly realize how much I miss her.

I wrote this while we were on a road trip.

Thru the blur the miles to reality lessen
Watch the beauty of the red glow you created
Brush the ash away
Don't look down . You're still there
Oblivion to others leaves deep wounds
Slow down but not to see yourself
Life is not a mirror for the vain

What are the chances
You find life
By forgetting your own
Chemical intoxication to stop the pain
You see the life in front of you
Hang your head in shame

Another thought from the old journal:
Mannequins are no longer the sole bearers of fake faces.