Shorter gets the point across
Tear stains
underneath her eyes.
Sick of being used
for the things she hates
about herself.
“Why do you fall so hard, heart?’
Why do you trip
falling downhill
ending in a pit of love
fake love
fake smiles
“Dig yourself out of pain, soul.”
Her eyes
a faucet.
Showing shame
anger, confusion.
Years and years
thrown out
down the drain
they go.
I hate my thighs
and what’s between them.
Covered in scars
hiding a sacred place
which has been defiled
time after time.
I hate my heart.
Full of strings
easy to manipulate.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world