"Tormented", "messy", perfect.
They slit the knife through the bleeding skin of my magnificent jewels.
They are well aware of the chaos they dare to unlock by wishing to open my ruby treasure.
I bleed over their fingers and stain their lips—a mark left by Mother Nature.
I cannot comprehend how they define me as "Unpleasant," never realizing they are the ones who cut me open.
Perhaps, I do not wish to be peeled.
Perhaps, that is why I hold so many layers.
You seek to unravel me, but I cannot promise that unveiling my sacred bloom will be easy.
What I can assure you is this:
These layers are not a challenge for you; they are a shield for me.
I feel afraid, and anxious that my beauty may be lost due to my hardships.
But I do not soften the barriers.
I do not lessen the hurdles.
I do not reduce them, for if you are not prepared to course through my imperfections, you are not prepared for the beauty I hold.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts for the Eye
PoetryThoughts I wrote down, maybe they'll give you some comfort? "But I feel something deeper. Beneath the fear, there is a fire inside of me, one I cannot extinguish. It burns with the pain and the rage of all the women who came before me. " PS. If...
