Beauty
A poem
Dec 16, 2020
Its fabric broke through her,
teething through the skin of her hips to her thighs,
seeping deeper with every movement.
Her body ached,
her skin began to rip.
A silent pain
for an oath she took,
the stains and scars
are for her only to know.
Beauty,
the price I pay,
you return with empty compliments.
