Go ahead and take a look

it doesn’t even matter

that my bones are frail and breaking

nor my hands are beat and battered.

I have just a body made of skin,

my beauty — superficial.

We know beauty yields disinterest

and a love that’s prejudicial,

love that’s shallow and erotic

and quixotic and unhealthy

contradicting what we need to

feel emotionally wealthy.

Taken chances I have with my art,

my heart, and body, too.

When you give yourself away

a broken heart is nothing new.

I’d a taste of what I’m craving,

what I want and what I need

but I can’t seem to shift this tide

I am so often mis-perceived,

or am deceived when I believe

a smiling promise not to leave

I cannot understand a guiltless heart

and why through me they cleave

a path into my very soul!

I’m not actually wanted,

I don’t fit into their mold.

I truly hate to be a play thing

and it drives me fucking crazy!

How must I pretend to be?

So I am treated like a lady?

Seems it’s time to take a pause from

looking deeply into others,

see — my fortune should be vast but,

it’s been squandered by my lovers.

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