Dying To Be Sweet

This year, I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m going to be a little kinder, a little sweeter and more naive.

Food Dye & Candles 138

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Taking a spoonful of honey every morning and repeating at night. Hoping that it’s strong sweet nature will touch my soul and help me become saccharine. A lady that never opens doors, pulls out any chair or has her hair all over the place. Fragile. Lady-like.

I’ll resist choking on hypocrisy since my tongue isn’t silky and made out of golden honey. It can’t fathom soft & lovely words used to soften the blow. I secretly admire Mandy from the Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy. She was on a completely different level. Mandy didn’t care about not caring nor did she mince words when she wasn’t feeling something. Sweetness could have killed her.

I’m trying to control the bitterness that lives in the depths within me. It’s not a pretty sight.

Trying not to be angry since I hear that more flies are caught with honey than with vinegar. Ladies expected to swallow whatever is thrown their way, man up and stop acting like a girl. All in the name of acting like a lady.

A man will tell you something with a smile & pretend that he ain’t stepping all over you. Your friend will tell you that you’ll look petty if you start complaining about it. It’ll be retrogressive if I start acting passive aggressive but it won’t solve the problem either. My inner voice says screw niceties say exactly what’s on your mind and stay strong.

I’ve been running with the savages long enough & dancing with the devil. No longer caring about what lines I’ve crossed or whom I’ve angered because I’m speaking my mind. It’s a double-edged sword. You’re loved for your candour but people are also sceptical about you, as a person.

I practice smiling in the mirror, with and without teeth. Softening my eyes and letting my cheeks blush naturally. Reminding myself that hands shouldn’t curl up into fists whenever things start getting tense.

Half my face refuses to co-operate & I try pinching and pulling in different directions. It feels broken & confused like a bad jigsaw puzzle. I need this smile. So that whenever am propositioned with something ridiculous yet serious I can use it.

A little part of me wonders whether I can be the sweet girl with scary undertones.

Learning that my feelings don’t always have to show because I’m playing nice. I’m playing for the team. No longer torturing & twisting ideas that seem a little too futuristic or redundant yet they must happen. Controlling myself from calling out spades. Refusing to bend to the man that needs to exert his masculinity & feel like a man. I must learn my place. Otherwise, I’ll never get ahead in the office or settle down in life. 
With nice phrases on sticky notes stuck on my bed, I try to find out what a happy place is. Secretly hoping that one day I won’t have the need to throw expletives all over the place when I’m smouldering within.

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