I am more than my body

Quite frankly, It's a shame

that I have to hide my body

and paint my face,

cut my flesh

to embody grace.

I have no issue with my skin

but when I step out the door,

they frown at me

as if I've committed a mortal sin.

The sin of embracing what I am made of,

kissing  my flaws,

not raising a questioning brow

when into my heart

they dig deep their claws.

They say "It's tough love"

"we're preparing you for the world"

but if love is this...torture

then let me be devoured by the universe

For I haven't a strong soul,

That I won't be broken, wounded, and bruised

by  their criticizing murmurs

and when their fists stain me black and blue.

To tell the truth, I am afraid

of what to my progeny they'd do.

will they suffer the same malevolence

or will they find the truth?

The truth that beauty comes from within

That your size doesn't matter

nor your hair nor your skin.

Such simple words

but too hard for us to grasp

through our eyes red-rimmed

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A/N: I am sorry that I didn't post earlier. I have extra classes in summer vacations so I was stuck doing maths.

*trying my best not to break down*

anyhoo

what do you think? this was stuck in my brain for so long and I didn't want a poem on a subject like this to be written wrong or have any mistakes.

RN to me, this poem is what I wanted to write but I am so sorry if this offends someone.