I couldn't possibly pull it off
You know?
The whole 'Damsel in distress' act.
I don't have a tiny waist and dainty fingers.
My hair isn't silky smooth and fun to touch.
Mine is tough and demands thorough attention.
My skin welcomes sunlight like a little girl would her mother after a long day.I've experienced pain that seems to be foreign to my physical body.
I've died and was resurrected by the need to carry on.
I toughened after the soil became one with my cousin, a hero that never survived because his flesh sought after an antidote.-Strength
YOU ARE READING
A.M Thoughts
PoetryDisclaimer : DONT read if you're TRIGGERED by SUICIDE or EATING DISORDERS. 🔞