Jane Doe does as Jane Does do.
I can’t comprehend what it’s like to feel to not fit in.
I am a missing piece to someone’s puzzle, a part of a matching set.
I am an ill behaved gypsy in the body of a sovereign.
Inhaling toxic illusions to slowly help me forget
I am a lost soul in a world of planed out fates, bewildered by my trials
I hide behind a mask of powder perfection and flawless glossy cliques
I am an anonymous prisoner, in a hell I did create out of denial
Seeking outlets in self harm, there is rushing red river flowing under my sleeves that are now hiding more than tricks.
Mother sees no Plights in my tendencies,
Father still only sees his bright burning star,
Mother does not know of my self-destructive remedies
Father doesn’t know his star is burning out.
I am lost in a forest of predators that lurk in silhouettes of my room.
I am hyperventilating my final breaths as I sob
Filling my bathtub with sorrows and draining my red impurities into my white watery tomb.
Giving up is my only solution, I lay my head in the water and allow my head to bob.
Lashings on my back from the love marks of my loved one who loves me so much it hurts.
Heart shaped bruises on my sides and chest and a dark purple contusion on my lip.
He makes it better with tender kisses, roses, before becoming like a bitter wine and curt.
IT HURTS, IT HURTS, IT HURTS, IT HURTS.
My mind is wrapped around the pain and discomfort of being drained.
My obscure vision fades in and out as the water surrounds me like an iron flavored embrace.
I feel the love, or maybe it is me rising above my body, the shower curtains are now stained
And the color has left my face.
No one knew who I really was,
I never gave them a chance to see how I feel or gave them an opportunity to subdue.
Because I am Jane Doe, and Jane Doe does as Jane Does do.