A Poem by Harriet Rose

I wish I was skinny, pretty, loved.

I wish

I wasn't me or anything like me

I wish I was her in her ripped skinny jeans,

Loving life in her yellow jacket looking cool, calm, collected.

I wish I was cool

but cool isn't something I will ever be because

My veins burn with rage when I see

Myself, when I see myself I want to rip

The skin from my bones, tear the fat from inside out.

The mirror is a demon, preying on my weak mind,

Telling me to stop, to take back control, to starve.

Sometimes I listen, sometimes I don't.

But I'll always, secretly, know that he's


© 2017 Harriet Rose

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I can relate to pain this piece represents. I hope the subject of this poem seeks a better way. My gut tells me whoever the subject is, deserves better than that. Nicely written.

Posted 1 Year Ago

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1 Review
Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on September 28, 2017
Last Updated on September 28, 2017
Tags: poem, poetry, mirror, mental health, hate


Harriet Rose
Harriet Rose

Wakefield, United Kingdom

I love writing, mostly poetry and short stories but I signed up to this website to try and explore more writing styles. more..

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