Dear Esther,
How I loath the piece of glass,
The horror that sits up front
"Mirror, Mirror,
Don't you know,
That what you show,
Is killing me?"
I can't stand on my feet,
When I see the horrendous reflection,
That appears,
Every time I reach in
The truth is too appalling;
Too terribly despising
It's my murderer,
My silent killer,
Making me bleed inside,
Throughout every hour of my life
I detest it,
Esther,
Why can't it just leave me be?
Why can't it block out the overweight girl I see?
There's a reason,
Why people cringe when they look at me
I'm not pretty,
Just terrifyingly morbid
Why can't I change,
How I look?
Why can't I change,
Who I am?
I don't deserve to live in this world,
Where everyone is gorgeous,
And I'm just...
Not.
Quinn
YOU ARE READING
shards of the heart
Poetry❝the scars that screamed of revolutions inside her head and the shards that made up her heart were things that no one saw.❞ suffering from a terrifying eating disorder and from a shattered home, quinn's greatest tormentor is imperfection. her world...
