The way people look at me
Change me.
The words people speak
Change me.
The unwarranted attention
Changes me.
The hateful stares
Change me.
The world has
Changed me,
And disordered me.
I have become this
Entirely broken thing
And I just can't seem to heal from all of this.
I have been made brittle
And soft.
I can't stand being this weak.
Please,
Just look at me.
I am not
Strong,
Capable,
Beautiful,
Good,
Kind.
I'm not even
Decent.
All of this reforming
Of oneself
For others
Has changed me entirely,
Into a creature whom
Is unsure of it's existence.