• This head, mind, soul and body of mine is filled up to the brim with problems.
    Small problems.
    Big problems.
    A lot of problems.

    This head of mine aches anytime I’m alone.
    It aches with the anticipation of what is to come.
    There is so much to come.

    This mind of mine overlooks even the simplest of things.
    Maybe it’s because I’m complicated or maybe it’s because I don’t trust easily.
    Whatever it is, it’s me and sometimes I don’t want it to be.

    This soul of mine is tainted, is aching, is not normal.
    Why do I say that?
    Because my soul cries out to me when I’m having problems.
    It tells me to let it all out, do whatever it takes.
    But it’s still not enough. What more can I do if I’m already doing everything I possibly can at the best of my abilities?

    My body.
    This body of mine is...
    There is no words to describe it
    For even I cannot put it into words.
    This is mine, this is me.
    Filled with insipidity, complicatedness, too much emotions, low self esteem, horrible things of the past and me all in one.

    This is who I am and sometime, I hate it.
    Sometimes I love it.
    Other people love it, envy it but I just look at it.
    What more is there to me?

    These dark brown eyes.
    Spell nothing.
    If they even spell anything at all.
    These tear streaked cheeks only prove to show everyone that I’m not as strong as I pretend to be.
    That I’m sad and I need a shoulder to cry on.
    I don’t.
    This face of mine is only there to show false emotion and something else I can’t quite put my finger on.

    Outside, my body is filled with scars. Ugly scars and ugly things on my ody that I wish would go away but we all know they can’t.
    Covered in lies, based upon a lie.
    Upon an emotion of nothingness.
    Being unwanted, starving for attention.

    Must I always do this?
    Must I always be the one to live with a cloud overhead?
    This Shantelle doesn’t know what to think or do.

    The blaring sounds of the horns,
    The airplanes overhead
    Making this Shantelle stop and wonder why the sun isn’t out today.
    The wind blows icy breezes and a chill runs across every part of my body making me shiver in frustration,
    A coldness and loneliness that I’ve known all my life yet never grew fond of.
    These legs of mine lead me to places and people who fill me with false hopes, lies and deception.
    Suppose I should cut both my legs off?
    Would it be better for me?

    I am at a crossroad in my life.
    Two ways to go, only one right way.
    My mind tells me one thing while my heart says another.
    Both have led me astray in the past and both are things I cannot trust.
    What am I to do?
    I will not, cannot, stand here and hope that everything stands still while I am pondering what move to make.
    For everyone and everything shall leave and I will have missed everything.
    There are a lot of things I can do right now.
    Make my own path or take the road less traveled.
    But which one is the one less traveled?
    You’re asking the wrong person.
    As for right now, I shall make my own path and see where it leads me.