my body...
he tells me it's enough for him to love,
but I don't think that's true.
you see,
I don't see my body being anywhere near enough for him to love,
for him to praise.
I can't banish the scars that mark my body,
from my own doing.
I tell him and myself,
how my breasts aren't big enough for him to grasp.
there's barely anything there.
I tell him over and over.
but he tells me it's more than enough for him.
he tells me it doesn't matter.
but I can't help but declare a lie amongst his breath.
I say how my butt should be bigger,
and I try and try to grow it,
I'm still trying.
and slowly,
it's working.
but he tells me it's not needed,
but do what makes me happy.
I ask how he can love me,
when my body isn't enough to love.
but every time he tells me,
it is enough for him,
and it should be enough for my own self.
but it's not.
I'm too skinny,
yet I fail to achieve the body I want.
but I won't allow myself to give up.
I try harder and harder.
my body isn't enough.
not for my own self,
and not for my lover.
and over and over,
I can't help but declare a lie amongst his breath.
my body...
you see,
it's not enough for my lover to love.
YOU ARE READING
my lover poets
Romantikthe thoughts about love. Simplicity form yet addictive to consume your mind over. Love isn't always perfect. (I know I'm not a perfect writer in poetry, but I thought it would be fun to write out some thoughts I have, and things I've learned int...
