I locked myself away again
hid in a form of a closet
bunched between the jackets
and moth eaten dresses
I closed myself in a drawer
between the trinkets
and stale kerchiefs
and oneday
maybe someone
a tresure hunter of sorts
will sift through the junk
to find the broken
stained little girl
who was once able to look in a mirror
and not see every inch of fat
every layer of skin
as disgusting
polish up the jewel to my heart
don't sell it though sweetie
this ruby gets cracked with
the slightest pressure