the day fell short,
the sky enveloping
in twilight
the turn of the knob racked
against my tinder ears,
water cascading afall
as the droplets of life played and danced,
i could only help but wish
the jovial pool
that sat in the tub was
replaced by my sorrow
i looked to myself
in the reflection of the wash,
scouring for even an inch of
something i deemed proud of
my nose was too big
my hips broad
the tresses on my head dry and cracked
an envy struck my wicked mind
if only i was as pretty
as those other girls,
but i'm me
and i'll have to deal with it
YOU ARE READING
The girl I am and used to be
PoetrySelf love is everything sometimes- and at other points it's nothing. Brushing your hair and teeth, picking out an outfit that doesn't make you look too put together- but still nice, washing your hands over and over until they rub raw. Self love is d...
