Brazen? Broken.

Raaghavi Senthil
Aug 25, 2017 · 2 min read

You drew a pretty picture of me in lead.
You drew me without the crook in my teeth, and the dent in my head.
And now, I have to hide.
But, if you mouth all the little things I say,
will you finally hear me?

The crimson spreading on my cheeks
when you’joke’ about my insecurities,
You call it cute.
But honey,they aren’t paintings on my skin for you to admire.
The smile I smile when you ask me why I look like shit, like I haven’t slept in ages.
I haven’t. How can I, when my perfect facade shatters into a nocturnal quagmire
day after day?
Night after night
I fight.
With you, my perseverent admirer.
Oh, how devout you look, almost looking like you worship me.
Almost.
Because only I see the quicksand in your unfailing high hopes.
With myself, as I beat myself up over trying to live up to your trumpeting.
With anyone that does hear me. Because now, I’m lost.

Don’t call me a liar.
Because one day, I forgot to wear my winged eyeliner.
And you said I looked different, and your face said the rest.
Now, every time I step out I wonder if my eyes aren’t too baggy, and if my hair isn’t a nest.
You drew me up like that perfect picture in lead.
You drew me without the crook in my teeth, and the dent in my head.
And now, I have to hide.

Even as your mouth forms a kind word or two, I sense the buts coming.
You forget the hundred times I oust you in debate,
only after you congratulate me with your miserably concealed surprise.
I catch that raised eyebrow before you quickly cover it up with a smile,
when you see that I speak about books more than I do about boys.
You drew a picture of me in lead.
You drew me with a pretty face and an empty head.
And now, I have to hide.

Now you think you’ve broken me
But you’ve only just awoken me
This how it’s going to be, so set fire to your fucking dream
I am what I’m meant to be and not what you choose to see

Fool.

Oh no, I don’t mean you. I was raised better than this.
So, I let everything go and on me you’re free to piss.
You drew a picture of my soul in lead.
You called it a girl and ofcourse, now I’m as subservient as dead.
And now, I have to hide.

)