Sabotage

Your words are the knives

which I use to whittle away

my imperfections, my

flaws - are they not beauty?

Monroe - so celebrated yet so

disrespected, yes, I am.

But I hope to one day

pluck away my unruly tangles

and reveal my inner glowing self,

glowing like the desert:

vast, smooth, yet

empty.

Is this innocence?

My once young self,

so smooth and pure

to the inner demons which now

plague my haunted mind,

choke my voice

until I am silenced in a world

in which I am nothing,

trapped by expectation,

deemed unworthy by

reality - oh, so cruel and unrelenting

yet the truth...