A slender figure of purpose,
But I’m so easily broken
With my paper skin and
Diamond eyes, my easily
Bruised silken lies.
They surround me in fear,
In confusion
—self-hatred.

My words, my voice is
A hypocrite to my actions,
My beliefs are like
Expensive dresses hung on
Display—too much to
Work for, too much to pay.

And yet I know, but
Continue to lie—truths
Were never the apple of
My eye.