Be who you are
Learn more about other poetry terms
I was at the end of my rope
The palms of my hands burning
My mind telling me to give up
But that ancient part of me bent on survival refusing to let go
So fragile with yourslef
Often forgetting to clean yourslef
So cracked with mis-conception
Often to transperent to think for yourslef
So eager to reflect what you see
On Tuesday I ran home
Just to get away from school
I can't stand how the people
Are so judging, are so cruel
They look at me, disgusted
As if they wish that I was dead
your lips touched me and brought what flows through my body up to the surfaceand it was a beautiful thing and i finally believed that who i was was beautifuli was myself and i was no longer ashamed of it but