To fit pretty in the t-shirt you gave me,
I have to stop.
Wouldn't you like to see me wear it again?
Well, first I have to stop.
There is nothing on this earth that makes me
Worthy enough of the clothes
I hide
In the closet.
My clothes, their clothes—it's all the same.
The only comfort I find is
At the bottom of my glass,
And if I drink enough, I will not need
Anything else.
I think I'll purchase a carving knife.
Shave off the excess so that I, too,
May be lovable like you.E.
YOU ARE READING
Yours Truly, Mooncalf
PoetryThis 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...