The Ramblings of a Madwoman: A Body.

It breaks down all of the time.

How am I suppose to love something that is always betraying me?

My hands stab–

myself in the back

that breaks with each thrust of the blade.

My legs give–

under the weight of my world

and my own problems.

My face, morphing–

a stranger stares back at me,

“who the fuck are you?” I scream

with tears running down,

drowning me

but the face doesn’t make one single sound.

I don’t make a sound.

Published by

Peachy Anon

"But many of the bravest never are known, and get no praise. That does not lessen their beauty." - Louisa May Alcott

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