This is a personal documentation through poetry.
I am learning to look inward now, give myself love when I least want to. I do not live to love others, I live to love myself. I will find and create what is enough for me, and you will learn to let it...
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What on earth could I say now, that I have not said before? Hatred once harbored for a soul— skinnier than they'd ever be again— It's smoking inside me like a gun recently unloaded into a chest cavity mistaken for some god awful excuse for freedom. I claw at the skin coating my sullied bones, as if I can lessen the density in my being and find myself lighter than the one I love. What an awful flaw to be flaunting. What a heavy burden to bear that I am no longer pretty.
