love for god but wrestle with the devil
by unlovedprincess
i pull down my pants,
underpants,
and then i pull down my skin,
and it seems as though there has been blood stains
there
since forever,
so when i look down and greet each thigh,
i have begun to greet the floor
as well...
in thinking that they would laugh, when
i trim myself in the mirror,
i
make cutting motions and
pretend
to slice open my skin and everyone else
who says i am
not worth it
..
but my curves are warm when they hug me,
and i think
i see a girl hiding
between their folds, in the dark...
lost,
but in her own body.
so when people look at me, i've learned now
to cower,
to put away my teeth, my hair,
my words of indignation,
and
turn into that tiny girl, where
i'm always safe, always small...
always alone.
where i am crucified, but loved,
hungry, but not wanting,
satiated...
but only for now.