Shields, Not Bulletproof.

We plead for understanding 

of our minds and our souls 

to disregard our skin and bones, 

but I still see the agony 

plastered like graffiti paint 

on your amygdala, 

and I still hear the words 

they write about you 

in bathroom stalls and online diaries, 

they’re talking s**t about your personality.

And that’s what hurts the most sometimes 

because our skin and bones can shield us  

but when they criticize our insides 

it’s almost a shame to hide.

So in the end,  

we are no longer unique pretty little flower petals, 

we are the creation of five year old stories,  

monsters destroying the world 

except there’s no real hero for that.

Reviews

[writingcrazy55555]

Great poem, very well-written and has a nice message. Excellent work, as usual!

[demureminds]

Thanks, glad you liked it!

[Tai Ryens]

I love the ending, that was simply amazing, yet ironic because the monsters are who we were told to be afraid of when we were young.

[demureminds]

haha yeah that's what I was going for, thanks!