Author: Cierra Robinson

 

Most days my skin smells like sadness

Pigmentation–melancholy

Feels like it was hidden in my bones

Draw blood–I’m certain it’s blue

 

Keep trying to level up

But I’ve got lead in my shoes

It’s tiring trying to show and prove

I wear a distressed smile

Can you see my holes?

Am i bleached enough when I’m shifting?

Just to enter into the world

Knees ripped from begging myself not to lose my self respect

Because people who don’t see you still won’t have respect

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