1, 2, 3…
𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑡, ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒

I pretend to look for her
but somehow I find her
without even trying                    
Sadness opens her arms wide,
hugs me so hard
I hear my bones break                
I can’t move, I can’t breathe                      
yet she clings onto me tightly
until she melts
right into

my skin

Wasted      
                     i
                                 s
t            
h          
e   seconds I lived
     t                in my
     h               head
     e   minutes I let anxiety
          t                    build up
          h                        in me
          e   hours I wished I could
               t                                 dis-
               h                          appear
               e   days I wallowed alone in
                    t                                     self-
                    h                                    p­ity
                    e   weeks I tried to outrun all
                         t                                   of my
                         h                                   fears
                         e   months I hated every inch of
                              t                               ­             my-
                              h                 ­                          self
                              e   years when I believed I was worth
                                                                ­                  nothing

I gaze in the mirror
at the bumps and blemishes—
unsightly mistakes etched
on a canvas of skin
I pick at all the red spots
𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏
I pick at all the scabs
𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑
I pick at all the scars
𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕

I peel off all this rotting skin
only to find more layers—
of crippling fear
of clawing jealousy
of heavy shame
eating away at
what is underneath it all—
a woman who does not have
the courage to love herself