Your words sting, corrode, and gnaw into my skin. My heart aches and my mind starts to think. I'm not good enough, not thin enough, not pretty enough, not tall enough, not smart enough and the list goes on ad nauseam, spinning in my head. I'd like to say this is simply a reflection of you. I'd like to say that it doesn't bother me, this wounding of pride. I'd say a lot of things if I didn't want to sit and cry. So I'll sit and lick my wounds. Tomorrow is another day, and with it I will rise.
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100 Words
Poetry100 words on one word. Mostly thoughts, sometimes poems. Drop a line or share a word.
