9. comparisons
when I compare my blemished skin
to your flawless, empty canvas
I am nothing
when I compare my full tummy
to your toned paths up your abdomen
I am nothing
and when I compare my empty voice
with your rich, melodious laugh
I am nothing
and maybe if I didn't compare
every flaw of mine to the lack of yours
maybe I would be more than just nothing
but as for now
as I count the stretch marks and ratio them with yours
I am nothing
and I will continue to be nothing
until I free myself from the tangled cords
that is the web
you have spun me in
