the beast

All eyes look at me

as my clothes slide from my imperfect skin onto the concrete floor

a voice inside me wakes and tells me i'm not enough

i wonder if i could be enough


i struggle to be positive

to feel motivated

to love myself

and my terrifying mind tends to take over my body

even on the sunny days


every little mistake haunts me


to some, it's just a number

a decimal

to me, it's my entire complexion

the true colors of myself 

the true way-

my identity


and every little mistake haunts me


the beast inside of me wakes up

everytime it seeks a fight with the monster in my head

it's always awake

it's a never ending fight

my head aches from so much distress

and my head aches from fasting until the night ends



and every little mistake haunts me and kills me


the beast scratches me

bites me

hurts me

and my eyes flood 

with the weight of control 

control i don't possess


every little thing my body consumes is toxic

not just a number

my identity



This poem is about: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741