What I yearn for is the word “beautiful” to pass through your lips to describe me.
It used to happen so easily.
But now it is lost in the vagueness of forgotten inclinations and shuttered emotions.
Barriers brought on by a culture that allows no leniency for failed attempts.
Feeling half a man, you refuse to see me as a whole woman.
I am just a broken piece of glass. Bad luck and burdensome.
You bury me in the trash and I am forgotten.