Too tired to even sleep

And the very next day.
The VERY next day.
My fault? I suppose that's what we can call it?

Babe...

Learn to back the fuck off. Learn. Just... just fucking learn, and save me all this flipping trouble. Because if you don't, then I will. And either way he gets the short straw. So it's your fucking decision.

I want to be seen, back to front, top to bottom, inside and out;
I want to be seen, I long to be noticed, at least some how acknowledged, whether it's by a slight tilt of the head or the cut of the eye, the lift of one eyebrow or fluttering eyelashes. 
I am acknowledged either way, and my heart & mind will sit contently, happily waiting til it happen again. I want to be noticed again. It soon becomes the drug I crave. Squints from a distance, & the heat of your stare, I pray for it to one day scold my shoulders and eventually burn through my heart unlocking the secret I have been yearning to release.

I suppose I haven't really been working on it so this should still count as a before picture. Definitely aiming to tone up by my birthday in March