hurt

Black Cotton

Black cotton

Grows from my head

A gravity defying halo

Around my skull

It deceives you

Springy and wild

Commanding attention

But in reality

So tender, so delicate

Black cotton

Grows from my head

Black cotton

Mimics my heart

 

-Elle

#poetryfromthenotpoet

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She

She.

An amalgam of broken pieces

Shoved and glued back together.

It’s not quite right

Something’s off.

All cracks and crevices

And missing bits…

 

But this is no tragedy.

 

She

Has more surface area for love.

More room to connect

Fluent in empathy

A master of compassion

So much taken.

So much more to give.

 

She.

A humble soul

Resilient and vulnerable

Present and feeling

Scarred and lovely

A treasure not to look at,

But instead one to see.

 

She.

 

-Elle

#poetryfromthenotpoet

To all of the people I’ve taken the time to look at, but never really saw.