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

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