why must i look broken
for you to believe i am broken
there’s more that meets the eye
yet it’s more comfortable atop
the lash for most-
mental health is real
and how many lavender oil-infused
baths
scented candles
and Daniel Caesar songs will it take
until the self loathing ceases
the dark hooded voices to cease
it’s echoing in my mind
twisted
painted contorted for someone to love
the painting no one understands until one person tilts their head and squints at the canvas
for someone to embrace
and it must be me first.