People think a life ended is a choice:
A knife
A pill
But the secret to self destruction?
Go to school
Be the good girl
"Sticks and Stones"
You don't reply
Be the better person.
Your legs swish as that tight little miniskirt
Gives the attention you need,
Not that you want
And you finger the hem
Wishing thighs would part,
And your stomach would stay tucked in that strangling waistband.
Lips red as blood
But only enough to look
"Natural."
You're quiet and don't speak
As the catcallers whistle.
You get just enough wrong
To not be "too" smart
And push away your lunch,
You're never hungry anymore.
The cigarette graces your fingers
And smoke takes you to a better place
Even though
Your head whirls and
It still makes you cough.
You walk fast keys in hand
Head high and trembling.
You dodge your parents
And sit in the corner of your room,
Fingering the scarred bracelet you share
With every other "normal" girl.
It wasn't the knife, not her pills - though
She keeps them both behind that hateful mirror
That tells her she should use them.
It's the everyday,
It's society,
It's all too much.
One crack one flaw and you're no good anymore.
How does one self destruct?
You laugh ruefully to yourself.
It's not a how -
Rather a when.
YOU ARE READING
Up Too Late
Poetry//Hopefully// my best poetry, random stuff from times I can't sleep and need to leave my mess of a mind
