The body I have doesn't define you,
but it betrayes my own soul, it kills it.
It kills my mental health,
destroys it.
It isn't what you wanted, right?
I don't know how to change it,
your eyes have already seen it, so does your brain.
I'm afraid they will see my body as my personality.
Their eyes are looking the other way, but I feel them staring.
Their eyes make my body something I am.
But I am not, am I?
This body, it ruins my brain.
This isn't what I wanted.
Do I have to change my body?
Or do you have to change your eyes?
YOU ARE READING
My body, your eyes
PoetryA poem. People who judge you for you body, or atleast your scared of people judging your body. Don't read this is you can't handle body dysphoria.
