.
                                    Fu
                              u    ck      c
                            c      Fu         k
                          k       c    k         F
                         F       F     u         u
                         u       c      k         c
                          c        F   u         k
                           k        c k          F
                             F       F        u
                                u    u     c
                                     c k

The first one this week is named Carlos,
he's tall and handsome and twice my age
He's got tan skin with all the hair burned off
his arms from sunlight sand and surf
He likes to call me "*******"

The second one this week is named Charlie,
he's married and chubby and masochistic
He's got a sunglass tan and three different cars
He likes to call me "baby"

The third one this week is named Ryan,
I think
He's tall I'm tall we were in his car our heads bumped
several times
He video taped the entire thing from three different angles
He likes to call me "***** *****"

Don't you dare patronize me.
I'm not your stupid little ******* anymore.
You no longer have any claim to my mind or body.
I will never yield to you again.
My intelligence will not be questioned by you.
*******.
******* and your stupid games.
You made me question myself over and over again.
No longer.
No longer will I ever let anyone make me question myself.
I am resolute and firm in my beliefs.
And I believe, NO I know that I am more intelligent than you ever let me know.
You were poison running through my veins.
So I had to open a vein to purge you from my body.
That is why, as I lie dying, I blame you but know I am responsible.

Fingers stained black.
Careless.
Spine bent like the railing
after the crash. Bent hard.

You're not even solid ground.
You're a whisper in the air.
Everything that
vibrates
has a pitch.

Everybody's muse.
Everyone's *******.
Plastic-like.
Flimsy.

All the switches
are off.

My emotions got the best of me.
of course you don't love me back
You just thought it would be "fun"

Cause it's so much fun to make someone fall in love with you
Only to rip it out of their chest

And leave them bleeding on the floor.

And I'm sick of others leaving me bleeding on the floor.

So I took it into my own hands.
I'm the one who made the ****
so deep it's seeping through the bandaid.

Are you having fun now?

I'm not. I'm racking my brain,
Asking myself why I'm not good enough for you-
Or anyone else.
I'm just a *******.
I'm just a ******* toy

You'll be curious about me,
Pick me up and play with me,
Until you find a flaw
Then you'll leave me in the back of your mind
You grew bored of me
You got what you wanted

so now I'm the one
Making myself bleed

So much for being "clean" for two months.
I threw that away.
Just like you threw me away.

I thought everything was better
I thought I was better

But you proved me to be
*so **** wrong...

they said “pretty hurts,”
so i cracked my skull open and poured bleach in,
just to fit in the ******* mold—
eyes too small?
cut.
nose too wide?
slice.
smile too sad?
stretch it till it bleeds happiness.

they fed me doll parts with a silver spoon,
called it “glow up,”
called it “self-care,”
but it tasted like burning plastic and daddy issues.
every compliment came with a scalpel.
every love letter was a checklist.

**** too small,
waist too wide,
mind too loud,
heart too 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭.

they want silence.
they want symmetry.
they want a *******
with a filter face
and the soul of a doormat.

so i became her.

sold my reflection for attention.
traded innocence for injections.
let surgeons mold me into a *******
and called it confidence.

but love never came.

he picked the other girl—
the one with peach fuzz and crooked teeth,
who didn’t cry when no one looked at her,
who didn’t bleed to be adored.

and me?
i’m the monster they created.
a Frankenstein ***** with perfume veins,
a haunted mannequin screaming in HD.

god, i hate this face.
i hate what you made me do.
i hate that i begged for this.
i hate that i still check the ******* mirror
hoping i’m finally beautiful enough
to be 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥.

but i’m just Mrs. Potato Head,
and my parts fall off when no one’s watching.
you can’t glue back the soul
once you’ve scraped it off with a scalpel.

congratulations.
i’m perfect now.
aren’t you proud?

𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.
𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐬.

i. eliska writes
ii. plagiarism is a crime
iii. lowercase intended