one more step
on the scale
tells me i
need to be more beautiful
it sings this
through numbers
which i have echoed
at the back of my head
over and over
i feel my legs ache
from exhaustion
but it's not the
first time i let
it stop me
so ill be pretty
till it kills me
i wont stop until
im satisfied
let this promise
haunt me
until the rest of my days
follow me to my deathbed
a word vomit
forced out of my lips
tell me i am beautiful
one sacred moment
a crack in the mirror
i pretend to be
more
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Miscontrued Sentences
कविताNo one can understand yourself better than you. But we can all relate to the feelings that are often miscontrued by media, language, and everything in between. This is my ode to poetry, to the sad, the lonely, to everyone, and to myself.
