I'm worthless.
Dumb.
A waste of space.
I'm fat.
Ugly.
Stupid.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder when I'll be pretty again.
Sometimes I sit on my bed and wonder if I'll ever love myself again.
Sometimes I look at Brittani and wonder when she's going to stop.
Sometimes I scream at night because of the nightmares left by Trevor.
I look in the mirror and I see bruises.
I walk down the halls and I hear taunts.
I close my eyes and I can feel the blood on my arm.
I stare at the bloody razor and I can smell the metallic blood.
I eat and I can taste the fat and disappointment.
I learn a lot from rumours.
I learn a lot about myself.
I learn that I was pregnant and got an abortion.
I learn that I slept with the entire football team.
I learn a lot of things.
When will I ever love myself again?
YOU ARE READING
Broken
PoetryElle wants to be perfect. Elle wants to be Brittani. Elle wants to be skinny. Elle wants to be happy. Elle's fat. She weighs 105 lbs on a 5'9" frame. Elle's ugly. Scars cover her pale arms and bruises hid under her clothes. Elle's a slut. She's...
