I’ve shown my body,
More times than I've gotten flowers.
What's crazy is,
I love flowers
And hate my body.

But you don’t,
You love my body.
It’s what pulled you in,
What made you even want me.

Not me,
Not the way I spill my dreams at midnight,
Not the way I trace constellations on fogged-up windows,
Not the sparkle in my eyes,
Not my heart.

Just the skin,
Just the shape,
Just something to hold,
Just something interesting.
Just something to ****

You may worship me,
You may make me favour my body,
You may treat me right,
And you may “love” me now.

But the beginning is just the same
And if I were to lose any charm or,
God forbid my looks.
You’d leave and never come back.

I hate my body
And yet,
I still wait for flowers.