#poems dont hae to ryhme

[okayigetitifuckedup]

'But everything that happened- all you went through- its a part of you! It made you stronger!'

No, it didn't, it made me harder. Strength is not purely measured by how unbreakable my skin is. I have never been weaker at my core than when my skin was it's thickest.

I crave weakness of the flesh, I crave a give that tells those around me that I am not unfeeling steel.

I wear lambs' skin, not to hunt, but because it is pretty, and I wish I could be as fresh and innocent, every single fucking day.

The blood on my teeth, and the pain in my chest never let the fantasy get far.