#femininepain
I stopped listening to songs
with bridges—
they always begged.
I shrunk my appetite
until it fit inside
your gaze.
Then I shrunk
my gaze.
I killed the part of me
that expected softness.
She died
like a deer:
slow,
staring,
unconvinced
until the end.
I buried all of it
in poems
and told myself
that was healing.
But I check
the dirt
sometimes.
And things
move.
Apr 23, 2025
Apr 23, 2025 at 11:51 AM UTC