my scars and healing places

I cannot begin to tell you how I can cry

tearing at the fabrics of who I

wanted to be

a wife, a mother

every girl’s dream wedding

yet, these stains

black spots, slipping

through all the pre-existing

cracks

i am a toy to

you, nothing but a puppet for

enjoyment, while the heart grows

cold. a child is all i am

adults are lost children, seeking

others who seem to

pretend in having everything

together but its all a mask

i just want to be

Eevee, yet where is she

by Evelyn Davis

Woman, Model, Stairs, Window, Female, Railing, Building
pixabay image

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