I started at her worriedly, not speaking a word
She sat there tears in her eyes, staring at her thighs
Wondering why can't she change
Why can't she be a pretty flower
Instead of an ugly weed
Never could she be tiny and dainty
Why did it matter if she couldn't be small
If only she could be lovely
YOU ARE READING
esprit malade
Poetrya penny for my thoughts? trigger warning: depression, eating disorders, anxiety etc.
