it's squeezing lemons into cuts.
it's a middle finger in your stare.
it's the chasm between each rib.
it's devising a deadly plan
to devastate, to end the self-hate.
i can't get better.
i can't shatter my mirror because
i don't think i have enough lemons
to cover the cuts.
but here, at the alleged edge,
can we be honest with ourselves?
you don't believe you don't deserve
a second chance.
you're just too scared to seize it.
you want it,
will-willing,
but that will is missing
under the blanket of
your blanket statement
"i don't deserve it."
friend,
if you're never scared to be bad
you can never strive to be good.
YOU ARE READING
Lemon
Poetrythis is the story of a girl who's not so young anymore, but hasn't quite gotten used to being older. it's a story of looking at everyone else and looking at yourself and wondering "why can't i be happy?" it's a story about finding meaning in unexpec...
