I love who I am mentally and emotionally, but not physically.
Memories of you saying how much you love my freckles just makes me hate them more.
You talking about the inside of my thighs and how you wanted to invade the space in between makes me lose touch with my femininity.
You loved my brown eyes, and it reminds me of the bottom of a forest after a flood, washing up the marshes and de-rooting flowers from the earth.
My height was perfect for us to mold our bodies together, and all I ever want to wear is heels now, towering over other people to feel more superior.
You talked of tangling your fingers in my curly locks, and my strongest relationship right now is with my straightener.
I was once beautiful, but you've made me ugly.
- no amount of showers can make me feel clean