when my body started changing,
i was asked to change with it.
my friend gave me concealer,
should be called "conceal-her"
why aren't boys asked to cover their face?
what's the point of a bra?
surely not my comfort,
the wire stabbed my ribs and
straps dug valleys in my shoulders
i was sent home to change
because the sight of my skin
was deemed ******
and when i was called fat?
i starved myself so that i would be wanted
and then they called me flat.
at what point can i just be myself?
darkness encases me
attempts to end my descent
ringing fills my ears
my eyes open to the world
i feel no relief
Once the world was happy,
Love and Joy, they danced around.
Then in crept Insecurity and Doubt
to strike them down.
Their attack was not direct,
No, much more devious
They acted like they cared for them
When they were there to bury them.
"I'm only looking out for you"
"Trust me, I know what's best"
They slowly gained their trust,
and well I'm sure you know the rest.
"You look rather silly dancing with Love like that"
"Joy's better off without you, you surely won't be missed!"
Now Joy never leaves her house,
Doubt has her trapped in there
and that evil Insecurity
has Love tied to a chair.
I appreciate feedback, thanks!
there was a girl whose heart did grow
she loved and loved but we all know.
that when she loved the whole world round
they spit, and stomped her to the ground.
she learned to hide her heart away
it never saw the light of day
she locked it up and tossed the key
and oh this girl, well she was me.
the first cold day at summers end
the laughter of her closest friend
they'd bring a smile to her face
but fail to touch a deeper place
she did find joy in little things
but then her heart would cut the strings
her friends they pulled her up for breath
yet she was plagued by thoughts of death
your razor sharp words aren’t aimed at me
yet they still leave their mark
the shrapnel it rips me to shreds i can’t stand it
i feel myself falling apart
watching other people hurt can be just as painful
It's a funny kind of irony
That I'm being held back-by me
Countless people build me up
and I knock myself down
I'm alive, but I'm hardly living
opportunities I'm missing
crushes that I am not kissing
since this little voice is hissing
"something will go wrong no doubt"
"no one wants to ask you out"
"not good enough: your clothes, your hair"
"just stay at home, you're safer there"
I know this voice
I know her well
She *****, I tell her
"Go to Hell"
I like to pretend my anxious thoughts come from someone else because it makes it easier to tell them to *******