top of page
Writer's pictureCAFTA Co. Writer

Trapped

Written by: Freddy Nyezi

 

I hate how my thighs argue in agreement.

I hate how they play,

Teasingly pinching at each other

With every stride.


I hate my stomach.

I hate how it sags and sighs,

Even on my happiest days.

I hate how it doesn't even bother

To fake muscularity.

It just hangs there.

Content.

Impious.


I hate how my crooked smile

Can't even steal hearts.

Even in it's cunning jaggedness,

It fools nobody.

It only gloats,

Laughing at my defeat.


I hate myself,

And how timid I get around

Crowds of 5.

I hate how I'm constantly worried

And how I'm prone to outbursts

Of rehearsed Euphoria.

"I'm fine, thanks. And you?"

24 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page