Battle Scars

Mon, 01/01/2018 - 21:05 -- DayLynn

Dear You,

 

This is my least favorite part of my day.

I can never escape her eyes.

And my body can never escape her judgments.

 

"Bent, broken, barbed"

That's all she seems to say as her nails

dig into my neck

"Ungrateful, undeserving, unforgivable"

She screams it like a chant

 

She stares at every part of me

 

"Failure, filthy, foul"

I cannot escape it

She rips at my nose

"Monstrous, misunderstood, misshapen"

Her grip is too tight

as she attempts to cut my face

 

She knows me better than any other will

She has shackled me

Tortured me

She has thrust a dagger into my side

 

She continues to stare

 

"Rotten, reject, repulsive"

This load is too great for me to bare

She shoots my stomach with a gun

"Weary, wicked, worthless"

She tears my thighs with a knife

 

Her claws encircle me

I am nothing more than prey

 

She has snared me into her trap

"Stupid, sickening, sinister"

A spear is stabbed into my arms

Blow after blow

"Hideous, horrendous, horrible"

She strikes me hard into my gut

 

I am bleeding.

 

She finally finishes her attack.

I am wounded, hurt, and violated.

This vessel is desecrated, no longer sacred.

Peace is not a thing found here.

 

 

I walk away from the mirror.

"Until tomorrow."

 

(I write this for you, so that you know who your real critic is,

and that the only person who can drag you down is yourself.

Stay Strong.)

From, Me

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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