isa mari // 19 // NY
and if you could tell that my soul was already broken,
then why must you taunt me so?
why must you stare at me with dagger-like eyes
when you put the wrong piece in the right place?
why must you hold the shattered dust that can never be put together again
over my head and make me reach for it,
as if that's the part of me that matters most?
why must i look at you with start-studded eyes,
but you look at me as if you can only see in black and white?
why must my body be covered and my being be hidden
from those who seek out for me rather than just have me for comfort?
why must you be in control?
why must you shatter me more?
why must you make me face your demons and have a careful touch with them
when you only abuse mine
and send them back as soon as you realize they've even come around?
why must i ask the questions you fear so much to ask yourself?
why must i rant on about your darkness in a poem
as if you beautifully inspired me to do so
when you refuse to let me even be a thought in your head?
and if i could tell you were already too deeply engulfed by your own darkness,
then why must i still find beauty in you?
why must i?