Where will I find myself,
if even the kitchen rodents hate me?
If the very person who bore me in her womb
just outright tells me she abhors me;
If all that comforts me at night
is a rotting second-hand sofa
And also an old blanket I got for Christmas
that warms me from the chills of a previous brouhaha;
How am I supposed to know my value,
if all they ever tell me is that I'm ugly?
That even the fanciest of jewelries and gowns,
can never make me pretty;
What can the world offer me,
when I'm blind and see only hues of blue?
Or when I cradle myself in tears,
when I know not what's next to do?
What do I owe the people
who see me hurt but don't wipe away my tears?
When I know they here me screaming,
while I beg for solemn peace.
How can I ever be so proud of my efforts,
if no one ever sees?
Most specially the people,
I need to see me bleed.
So bear with me if I tell you,
that I'm tired of listening,
because no one ever hears me out
when it's my heart that's been shattering.
Don't blame me if I tell you,
that I'm tired of living,
Bacause all those I ever trusted,
left and had me hanging.
Don't cry if you hear me say
that I'm tired of fighting,
Because all I was is in past tense
and it's too late for your grieving.
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 9:13 AM UTC
No one ever knew
What it was like to be a ****
They never felt the unnerving sensation
Of the lingering touches and kisses
No one knew
How one's skin stings
From trying to scrub away
How ***** and disgusting they feel
They don't know
How it crushes a whore's heart
To be used but not remembered
How it's hard to find company
Who sees you for who you are
And not for your body
They don't know
How it's hard to live
Upto the society's restrictions
They judged but they were not aware
Of how this bítch was molded
They don't know
But still they criticized
They don't see
The gaping hole left
Within this slut's personality
They don't feel the pang of rejection
The pain of neglection
The sting of false accusations
They never listened
Their criticism never faltered
No one thought about the bìtch
No one cares for the whôre
What matters was that she destroys
And then get destroyed by her protagonist
They want a fairytale
And there's gotta be a villain.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 12:17 AM UTC