Jan 2014
I am no longer
the hollow of my collarbone
or the skin on my thighs
I am no longer
the frailty of my bones
or the space between my legs
I am the words
that flow from my lips,
and the way they curl and disappear
into the lungs of strangers
like smoke from a cigarette
I am the warmth I feel
when I hold you in my arms
I am the way I sing when
Iām afraid, attempting to find
light in a world full of dark
I am not my body, for it is
just a shell that holds my true
self; I am me,
and I am beautiful.
the hollow of my collarbone
or the skin on my thighs
I am no longer
the frailty of my bones
or the space between my legs
I am the words
that flow from my lips,
and the way they curl and disappear
into the lungs of strangers
like smoke from a cigarette
I am the warmth I feel
when I hold you in my arms
I am the way I sing when
Iām afraid, attempting to find
light in a world full of dark
I am not my body, for it is
just a shell that holds my true
self; I am me,
and I am beautiful.
This isn't my best work, but I haven't written in a while so whatever. This is about my struggle with an eating disorder. It's lame but I hope you like it.
Written by
Sierra Collins
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