Naked and nesting in soft womb

unclothed to ways of the world

nestled in heavenly comfort

hiding beneath light of insecurity

barefoot, trapped in silk underbelly

cleansing my wounds of yesterday

feeling hollowness sway in my cavity

fracturing thin pane of glass, cracking

opening wide the windows to my soul

climbing out of my dusky abyss

treading unshod in forgiving breeze.

Driving into work

turning to music to drown

away these voices that 

are screaming 

in my head

When I park, 

I gather my voices and 

take them with me 

and put them 

on my desk 

to play with later

Later they come 

out to play, target on

my heart to throw 

their vicious words 

till I've had enough

These voices are

my worst enemy

for they are my own,

my own voice I hear 

asking relentlessly

"are you any good?"

Eyes well with tears

and sinking heart falls

deeper into the hole we 

climb out of, my voices 

and me, until we 

find a higher ground

And when people question why I'm still a virgin

it's a simple answer, really.

No one has the patience to put up

with my anxiety.

They find my soft treading

annoying, unnerving.

Because a loud-spoken girl, like me,

shouldn't be so afraid of over-stepping.

©SelfTitled, 2017

In the shadows cast,

by her defined eyebrows,

puckered lips,

angled nose,

she hides.

In the darkness,

in the crevasses of her collarbones

the hallows of her hips

the ruins between her ribs

she hides.

A living skeleton.

Bones wrapped in tissue paper,

that tears as she stretches.

Insecurity breeds ignorance,

so she hides.