I have always been a maximalist
Covering my walls in the art that I love
Piling mismatched pillows high
Shelves of collections,
Tiny treasures, stunning sparkles, and nifty knick-knacks
Each a tiny part of my personality
Each a little spark of joy.
I fell in love with bursts of color young
And I never let go.
Did I pick orange, or did orange pick me?
I was always going to be myself
100% original, the good and the bad, the flaws and flairs
Of a girl who mostly knew her mind.
I'm still that way.
Each wall a different color.
Each room a testimony to my love of rainbows.
Art heavy. Candle rich. Figures for the eye to see.
I make no apologies for my decorative taste.
Its not everyone's cup of tea,
But that has never bothered me.
So why do I struggle so with everything else?
I want to be thin, and quiet and digestible
I want to be easy and agreeable and suggestible.
I want no one to have a problem with who I am
I want to be everyone else's biggest fan.
I don't know how to just be me
and let go of everyone else's negativity.
