They say beauty is pain,

But is the discomfort worth it,

When it burns in disdain?

I offered my soul,

For cheap, outside notice,

And hope they don’t know,

The blank holes I’ve sewn.

I don’t own my thoughts,

It’s other’s clutter,

Constricting me in clots,

I offered my stress,

For a false sense of hope,

Swept under the desk,

I hide my mind’s stress.

Stuck to a spider web,

I’m trapped in thin silk,

Watching my oneness ebb,

I offered my lids,

So I can see eyes,

And where they have slid,

My way if they did.

I sacrificed myself,

To whatever floats above,

But it hardly helped myself,

And now my heart eats itself.

(Idk if this makes sense lol- I wrote it quickly)