you fall off the swing at the ripe age of 5 only to open your eyes
and notice your voice is cracking and your under arms getting hairy
you fast forward and you’re getting naked for a boy who hasn't thought anything about your brains
but knows exactly what it takes to see your *****
because in the back of your neglected mind
you can still remember what it felt like
when 7th grade tommy noticed your love handles before you could
and now any ounce of attention rushing through your blood stream
feels like a drug, and you were so addicted to words
because sadly your dull scissors couldn't cut off what you see in the mirror
but your rusty 1st grade pencil sharpener will do the job on your wrists
and soon the scars turn into pieces of clothing on the ground for any grasp of the word beautiful