The fragile esteem
slowly crawling it's way
out of the raging shadows
of torment and loathing
clinging to the edges of the skin
let me stay, let me stay
it begs
before being thrown back
at the reflection
lost in the morphing mirror.
And then.
Pathetically
looks up
when the male gaze follows
smiles
in the low lights of a club
the gaze glazed by drink
sits on the shoulder
look, you've got something
right?
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