Dance in the Darkest Corner

With two fingers down my throat I taste only shame as I imagine myself with a negative 2 inch waist and a gap between my legs that could've gone on for a mile and I envision the boned creature that dances in the darkest corners of my mind parading around that I too can be beautiful if I look like her but fuck she's twisted my thoughts and the only thing I have lived on is water and air and I don't think she wanted me beautiful I think she wanted me dead six feet underground with the worms because that's where I belong but here I hang with the skeletons in my closet that I won't let out.

k.s 

This poem is about: 
Me

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