Dear body,
I’m sorry I’ve done this to you.
Homelessness subjected you to a deflated flower and flea bites.
I’ve ruined you
so I can’t even use you to cope.
I’m sorry you can’t stand to look at yourself.
I’m sorry every breath in tastes like cocaine.
I’m sorry your mother would be disgusted if she saw you.
I wish holding yourself was enough.
You can’t make yourself feel whole
so you plug the holes in your soul
with other people’s toxins
and elaborate elixirs.
Self validation comes in gram bags
and vodka cranberries.
The body dysmorphia hits harder
when you hate the person you are.
The scars on your skin, self made,
are the reminders of the sulking.
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Comments2
A fictional write for you personally?
the choices we make, in voicing
our hurts and scars
is such a true reflection of the person
we're still aiming to become
and your empathetic poetry, as a sincere 'vessel'
for the who, in you
you wish the world could, witness
is such a beautiful element
of your writing..
above all else, strive
to never lose that..
thank you! for choosing to share
(an important and insightfully impactful, write)
Your comments have really impacted how I view my writing. Thank you for the encouraging words under a poem, of which, I was to ashamed to post at first. Your words mean more than you know, dear reader.
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