am i pretty now?
that I've withered my skin to my bone, and sprinkled who i was in the wind
am i pretty now?
since I've felt the warmth of my lifeline, brought my own blood out of my skin
was I pretty then?
when I sobbed and begged them to love me, and my tears brought blush to my cheeks
when will I be pretty?
what more can it take, than what I've already spent
YOU ARE READING
To Touch My Mind
PoetryTo touch my mind is a work in progress, an exploration of thoughts and feelings as a person tries to grow. Take what applies, leave what doesn't.
