Is it possible for me to love
someone when I can't
seem to grasp the
concept of loving myself?

But you.
Oh, you.
You make me wanna
love myself;
love every
curve of my bones
every scar
every raised mark.

You make me beautiful.
So beautiful.

But it's not enough for me.

I shed old dreams in the form
of traveling lies
pouring into a porcelain bowl.

I see bones carve themselves
from the shell of skin
that claimed itself as mine.

The eyes pry at my demise;
However, I cannot hide.
Believe me, I've tried.

I just want to be what
you want.
What you need.

Unrelenting midnight hours
have pushed me to empty
more lies than normal,
All I see is what you ask
of me.
My stomach is a cemetery
for you;
No matter how many times
I greet your casket;
you find your way home.

I just hope I find a way
to tell you…
This house is not a home. -DDF