the click of the lock
shatters the uneasy silence in this

'house'

and my parents' eyes slip past
closed doors.

i am not enough for them.

quiet disappointment, and whispers
(fat/ugly/imperfect/notworthit)
drip down the side of my wrist
in the form of blood

and sadness often exits
from open veins.

-and i'm okay. (till my scars fade)