i read that book
about flowers and the moon
i don’t remember
but what i do remember is that
a lot of people don’t love me
their just insecure and see their
insecurities in me

and that



that made me feel more lonely than
ever before

i became who they were
so maybe they would like me

people called me a “pick me”

but all i wanted was a friend

I tried to be like them so they would accept me
but it didn’t work

I got used to the feeling

of being loved

because that’s what that random magazine I found online told me I have to do in order to receive it

Being told your opinion

is invalid

is the single handed most
degrading
feeling in the world

-my 5 mile long tears

blacked eyeliner

and creamed pigment under overtired eyes

curled lashes and a wand full of black hope

sprinkles of fragrance crushed the air
that smelled of a combination of the moon and the ocean

exchanged baggy pants for fitted ones to “accentuate my features”

Disappointed in the mirror at the figure reflecting back

so wish i could read my mom the poems
i’ve written about her

maybe it would bridge the gap between us

come to an understanding

because she doesn’t understand me

nor i her

all i ever do is want her to understand me
but she takes it defensively

it’s extremely numbing and heartbreaking

has your worth
every been defined by a pair of lurking eyes
from someone you love?

they don’t realize
how much the cruel statements
sting my inner soul

not being judged by my character
but rather by the rolls on my stomach

it stings my heart
makes my heart swell with shame and resentment

it makes me instantly reject the body i’ve climbed
mountains to try and love

it makes me reject
myself as a whole

stop shaming me and just tell me i’m pretty for once
please