chicken strips


Chicken strips in the microwave. we didn't count the calories. saying what we thought, not caring what the world says

     dressing up like a princess cause that's what I wanted to be. but now I have scars. and their not from climbing trees.

we count calories like its our job. then its one cut two cuts three cuts four, forget the little girl who was here before. she 

     shouldn't have to see what she's done to herself. so five cuts six cuts seven cuts eight. how much longer before it's too late.

nine cuts and finally ten. the little girl has come to an end. her old flesh in a pile on the floor. what more can you do to that poor little 


  • Author: arabis (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 16th, 2023 13:54
  • Comment from author about the poem: my best friend gave me this inspiration. he asked to be recognized.
  • Category: Gothic
  • Views:
  • User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.


  • L. B. Mek

    I feel Sylvia Plath, would recognise your art
    thanks for sharing, a brave write
    stay strong!

    • arabis

      thank you so much. this is the best compliment I could recieve.

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