She grew up thinking she was beautiful,
Every smile and laugh filled to show, to prove
That maybe she was worth something too.
Why does she have to live and die this way?
Who's at fault?
Who's to blame?
The girl staring back at her is done; she can't take anymore
But always, always pushing, one step closer to opening a new door
One step closer to being a new girl
Only to fall apart and unfurl.
I'm at fault
I'm to blame
Sometimes trying too hard leaves us with ashes
In what once was a blaze.
Why can't I love who I am?
Why the torture and elaborate plan?
Why is that girl in the mirror
Never satisfactory?
Because she's ugly,
And that's not what I want to be.
YOU ARE READING
Grape Flavored Cigarettes
PoetryA collection of poems I've written because I can't write I made the ugly cover yes I did.
