Clay and Mold

I drifted into clay:

I wanted to be loved.

It was too late-They molded hypocrisy (about me).

I shed tears to breathe:

I wanted to leave.

They screamed indignity (about me).

I exiled in a coffin:

Over consumed and abused (myself).

They invented mockery (about me).

I collected possessions:

Putting together pieces (of myself).

They crafted slander (about me).

I tortured my soul:

Refused forgiving (of myself).

They fabricated impurity (about me).

I punished every part:

Fed vengeful anger (to myself).

They masterminded humiliation (of me).

I left it all:

The sadness, the horror (in me).

I left them.

They devised that as the worst crime (about me).

I, you, they, me, them:

I wanted to be loved.

I wish I knew how to love (myself).

I wish I wasn’t utterly afraid to

Hug myself.

I wish to un-do

The injustice I did to myself.

I wish I knew to mold self- love,

Is to piece together

The highest

Form

Of

Self- regard.

~Maryum~