I am craving…. love.
I am craving warmth.
I am craving affection, and a gentle touch.
I am craving the things she robbed me of as I was learning how to be me.
I was 10, and I hated the mirror. Look at my ugly face, and these pimples, and this body fat, my ears, my nose, my teeth. The list exceeds a mile long. I should’ve been telling myself how beautiful I was, and that my eyes were an emerald sea just begging for you to ask, get to know me.
I mastered the ponytail, and the half up half down, but my skills never got better as you never did anything else..
I watched with kindred eyes behind the scenes, at the mother I wanted- the person I needed to love me.
She drank, and smoke and drank some more. Stayed silent in her room and sat staring at the tile floor.
What was I like? Was I awful? Was I too much to handle?
I wanted to be a ray of sunshine, but I felt like a puddle of mud.
How did you do that to me? Why am I here if I am nothing?
What’s sad is I think that you tried, and gave me what you could from what was left of you, but unfortunately for me I was third in line and scraping the bottom of the barrel.
I am craving love
The love you never gave to me
The love I try to tell myself I so desperately deserved
I should’ve known that I was beautiful, and that the pimples were apart of gross hormones. I should have known that the body fat I thought I had was nothing more than 5 pounds that would stick around. I should’ve known that these things I hate about myself could have been loved, should have been loved.
I am in a whirlpool of self loathe, and depression, of questions and tension.
I always come back to the same question in the end, why?
Hi! Cadlynne Dovel here, hopeless romantics. Withering relationship, mother of one and animal lover beyond what words can express.
If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail email@example.com