My body is not loved.
Stretch marks riddle my skin,
Almost as much as the self harm scars
That linger from years past.
I do not harm my skin anymore.
But I harm my body.
My body loses and gains weight like a ping pong ball.
I do not love my body.
It is unloveable in my eyes.
But you tell me you find it perfect.
And you kiss every scar,
Every stretch mark,
Oh so lovingly and gentle.
And my body feels a love,
An admiration,
It has never felt from its own inhabitant.
YOU ARE READING
Forever Writing
PoetryForever writing poems for those who will never give them even a glance. •••••• Hello! This is my second poetry collection. All of the works are my own and the topics are varied across many experiences and thoughts in my mind. If you haven't yet, go...
