My Body

My body / tells me / I should be ashamed / of how I treat it / That I should not / be allowed / to own it / if I cannot / take care of it / I smile / apologize / promising / to try harder / Promise / to stop tearing my skin to shreds / Promise / to stop licking bombshells / promise / to leave the injuries to someone / other than myself / This was / six years ago / three years ago / six months ago / This was / recent past / past nonetheless / I spend the present / apologizing / to everything / I put it through / We may never / have a healthy relationship / but my guilt runs deep / My body / knows / I am sorry / every time / I look / in the mirror / judge / what I have turned it into / a piece of art / sculpted / into something / I am unable / to admire / I am unable / to see / the beauty in.


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.

Advertisement

Grieving

Red wine stained lipstick covers sad smiles
in the blissful drunkenness of grief. Unsteady
feet have never been as funny as when the
mind-numbing heat flowed through your
veins after losing the part of you that
remembers what it feels like to be happy.

Dear Future Me

Dear future me,
Did you keep on the path I set for you,
or were the flowers off the road too enticing?
Did you become trapped in their grasp of deceit
when trying to compliment their beauty?
Did you make it over that wall of perception?

Dear future me,
Are you finally ready to claim the personality that belongs to you,
To display the body you worked for,
To show off the empire you built with the aftermath of the explosions?

Dear future me,
Have you finally broken free from the deafening claws of insecurities telling you that you will never be enough?
Have you decided you like what you’ve become?
Because dear future me,
I’m trying to get you there.

For Better or For Worse?

I killed a girl I used to know,

tied her up and locked her in her mind,

beat her until her eyes changed from grey to blue.

I slowly poisoned bits of her,

gradually dragging parts of her towards obscurity.

I took everything that molded her

and shaped her like clay,

caressing her into something to be proud of.

I killed that girl I used to know,

murdered the girl I used to be.