(Can't believe I'm sharing this; let's blame the Hot Damn 100, shall we? Yes, lets.)
She was raw
Naked
Helpless
Defenseless
She rarely bathed because she hated her body
She showered only to leave the house
She rarely left the house because she was dirty
She lived in shame
She lived in pain
She was always cold
She was always terrified
She drank
She didn’t clean because it made her sneeze
She couldn’t breath
She didn’t dare breath
She rarely ate because nothing tasted good
She had no appetite
She never cooked
She gambled with much hope and greater shame
She lost
She knew what she was doing
She had no idea
She didn’t brush her hair because too much came out
She barely brushed her teeth
She did the minimum, and it exhausted her
She killed, ever so slowly
She didn’t answer the phone because they all wanted something she didn’t have
She dreamed to survive
She had to
She worked constantly
She rarely got paid
She destroyed her eyes
She destroyed herself
And yet she existed on
She was raw
She was amazed
She lived only by habit
She self-hated the same
She no longer knew herself
She became unrecognizable
She reserved her voice and her smiles for the pure souls in four-legged furry bodies
She left the house only to walk them
They kept her alive
She avoided people
She couldn’t deal
She couldn’t see
She rarely spoke
She lost her voice
All of them
She lived an alternate life
Internal
Dangerous
Scathing
She screamed at the heavens
She screamed at the neighbors
They never heard
Neither of them
Imploring, ignored
She knew the score
She bruised her hands
She bruised her soul
She bruised
She hated herself each moment
She fought on
She was amazed
She was more vicious to herself than a worst enemy could be
She hid
She had to
She was so raw
She disappeared
She spent hours self-eviscerating
She ripped and tore and accused
She hated with a vengeance
She hated
She never measured up
She was vicious
Only to herself
The monsoon in her head
Made her dizzy
Fed her hate
Constantly
She thought too much
She couldn’t stop
Danger
Dangerous
Deadly
She fell over the cliff
She fell over a lot
She lived, only by habit
She breathed on, never deeply
Tentatively
As if she wasn’t sure she was allowed
She failed
Again and again
She tried, harder and harder
She stopped trying
Her life collapsed around her
She let it
She dreamed to live
She had to
She existed
Survived
A miracle in itself, survival
She detested herself
She couldn’t stop
And then she did
Tags: Poetry Poems Writing
