My Pretty Beaten Face


Father, don’t I look pretty?

My mouth is sore and my tongue is gone.

All I have is anger and love and I have smeared it on my lips and cheeks for you.

Is it enough for you?

Are they white enough for you?

Am I enough for you?


Father, I don’t like you hands when they’re in my mouth

I said “I don’t like your hands”.


Can I leave the chair?

Oh no, I didn’t ask it right.

Can I leave this chair?

Oh no, I didn’t ask it right.

May I leave this chair?

Oh yeah, that time I got it right.


I forgot my chin…

I want it on my chin.

I don’t want your help

I don’t need your help

Father, you’re ruining it

It’s too clean.

I don’t clean my face.

I never clean my face.

I don’t want you to clean my face.

Don’t clean my words.

Don’t clean my voice.

My voice is gone.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741