punctuation 

Create,

And          Destroy. 

Hate yourself,,

Remorse. 
What am I but a collection of

Mysteries and blood?

Someone thinks, I’ll unravel her,

Encompassing my worth. 
I encase my own identity

Cause the curious-mongering

It’s in the way my veins decide

To sway and dip with the ocean’s tides. 
Curl up inside my bones

Find the chips and cracks. 

Realize I’m nothing more

Than a flesh-and-bloodied sack. 

I’m not the girl with silver teeth

Who throws her head back and laughs. 

I am the girl whose skin is deep

Which fissures when I bask. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s