the-diary-of-a-writer:

Beautiful

They said I’d never be beautiful.
The words and worlds crawling into my fibers
Settling in the space between infinity,
They poisoned me
Like the last rat of the race that was never meant to be won. 

I have holes where wholes should be,
And my body is the broken jigsaw piece
That even the moon doesn’t want back,
His crescent form replicates on my face
But it’s the wrong way around.

They said I was a cesarean.
Clinging tightly to the hollows of my mother’s womb,
Finding a solace among stars of different strands.
Lost in the fabric of love that was made of not knowing-
I’ve never wanted to be in this world.  
But they excavated her skin, with their scalpels and second hand hope,
And tore me away from my roots like the scab settled on your surfaces.
It was bound to bleed.
My body, was violated before I was born.  

I grew and I moved a few degrees in this world,
But they traced me back to a broken girl.
With splinters in her smile,
And hollows in her eyes,
That told stories like crystal balls;
But never, never of the future. 

I have nightmares of my father’s palm,
I have the scars of his potential
Leaking down this filthy body
Like acid that tastes of every inch I wish I wasn’t,
That reminds me of the time I licked the sun.
I am the worthlessness after a strike,
And the yearning to just strike out.
I am the disgust I see in the mirror.
The reflection of far away perfection
Intercepted by reality. 

I am the creatures that crawl under my skin telling me 
On repeat
That I will never be enough 
That I will never be enough,
But the extra inches of this widened waist is already too much
To ever fit in the grasp of a loving hand.
I’m scared to wear sleeveless shirts
Because the boys they tell me that I am made of jelly.
And that all they see is my belly,
But I say, why can’t you see the hunger inside it-
The one that aches with the pain of being divided
And discected into body parts
Instead of fine art
and masterpieces.

They said I’d never be beautiful.
Because his hands pinned me up
And tore me down,
And roamed my body like spiders in the night.
I can still feel his breath on the back of my neck
His heart on the void of my chest
His claws on my breasts,
I can taste his tongue
Every time I breathe.
And so I’ve tried keeping these lungs empty,
And I go as far as the face of god
But gravity pulls me back, and I am that girl again.

They said I’d never be beautiful. 
I am abused, misused and confused
Made of cigarettes stains and empty veins
That meander through my being.

They said I’d never be beautiful
Never is now.  

(Source: alfaazkibarsaat, via halfsickofshadowslove)