No Reason To Be

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She sees no reason to be.

So much that

Whatever image

society requires of her,

she portrays.

She is so engulfed

by reaching the

Standards of

society's perception

Of perfection that

Believing she is

Beautiful as she is

Bountiful is so

Ethereal it is a

Notion that is

Graduating to

Becoming

Nonexistent to her.

She sees no reason to be.

So much a phase,

Is what she would

Phrase as loving

Herself.

So much that

She has betrayed

Her convictions

and her sense of self.

She sees no reason to be,

Because she was

So fearful of

The aftermath

Of battling

Her demons

Settling for

Desolation

Was her salvation.

She sees no reason to be.

So much that

Dreaming and

Unapologetically

Being have

Become a luxury

Too good for her.

So much that she

Regards the world's

Cruelty as kindness.

She sees no reason to be.

So much her soul now

Rests in the façades

Of men that glitter

Their duplicity with

Good intentions.

She has become

So much of a victim

That she tore off

Her backbone

Exposing her dignity

To deceit.

She sees no reason to be.

So much they are

Now all agile when

They see she's fragile,

But is she to blame

For believing it's dawn

When it is only dusk?

Is she to blame

For giving too much

Importance to this

Mortal body when

These sheep in

Wolves' skin have

Masked exploiting her

Vulnerability as love?

Is she to blame

For being shook

Until she yielded

To being molded

And shaped by

Society's most

Renowned potters?

Am I to blame for

Believing there's

Still hope of

Saving her soul?

For believing

That maybe,

Just maybe

Death isn't the

Only way to

Set her soul free?

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