I like ice cream

I like peanut butter on my apples. I like windy days. I like ripped jeans. I like the smell of orange blossoms. I like old books. I like the ocean. I like ice cream--alot.

I like peace.
I like sailboats.
I like hammocks.
I like sunsets.
I like candles.
I like to talk.
I like to listen.

I like treasure, though not silver or gold. I like the treasure found in others.
I embrace my inner child. I just cannot control him.
I like people, yet I am alone in a crowd.
I like to be alone. There is where I find my friends.
I like to be healthy. I still feel sick.
I like simplicity. Things are complex.
I like silence. The world is so noisy.
I like to take it slow. Everything moves so fast.
I like ice cream.

I do not like the dark.
I do not like the cold.
I do not like broken toys, broken dreams, or broken hearts.
I do not like "bad guys."
I do not like assumptions.
I do not like risks.
I do not like anger.
I do not like hurt or pain. Sometimes I do like to cry.
I do not like secrets.

I do not like a mess. I do not like to clean.
I do not like to read. I like to collect books.
I do not like to spend money. I like to buy things.
I do not like to go to bed. I do not like to get up.
I do not do what I want to do. I do what I do not want to do.
I do not want to change. I do not want to stay the same.

I know what I like. I know what I do not like. Yet it seems like there is always conflict. There is constant struggle to find an even compromise. Why am I the way that I am? Have I created myself or am I a victim of my past?

I think truth lies within both. I created my past. I am a victim of my past. I am a victim of my own creation. My struggle is to survive and come out victorious.

I fight many battles. I know I have won some of them, but I often feel that I have lost many more. I still fight. The battles are bloody. I have many scars. I have many wounds that have not healed. I wonder if they will ever heal. I wonder if I will be restored or remain disabled.

Will anyone ever overlook the wounds? Or will I be cast outside the city gates as a leper? Will anyone in this world be able to see the strength inside, or will they just look at the weakness of the flesh?

I do not like the dark.
I do not like broken hearts.
I like ice cream.