Such tragic secrets hidden
In a small purple metal book.
Thin razors between the pages
Are my only friends, hidden there.
●
Such lies are told
When some secrets discovered.
"It was the cat."
How believable.
●
Have I earned the stripes
I give myself?
Am I beautiful as the tigress?
Only one more.
●
The constant itching,
The never-ending burn.
Just things I have grown accustomed to.
All part of the territory.
●
It rains red from my skin.
With every stripe, more red flows through.
Silently screaming for help,
But no one hears me anymore.
●
Am I going to be heard?
Should I keep screaming?
Do I give up?
Am I a tigress now?
