My head is full of angry, cruel words.
The thousand brutal lashing of misplaced adjectives
Heaped on me.

Like most women
told us so many times we were
Fat ugly thin scarred tall short repulsive
Mousy stupid bitchy demanding
old wrinkled worn
We wear descriptors of our past enforcers
Like layered clothing

It would be so easy to shed them
Give them no value.
And drink of new
Softer words of kinder folk

But we cling to our cruelties
As if they were perfume
We inwardly validate our flaws
Because what we search for
If we search long enough
We can find such

I hear I am warm
Caring beautiful kind considerate
Talented brilliant funny sweet

I shrug
Layer protected
Tight to the essence
Like lavender fae


  1. those demons live
    in everyall R head(s)

    thriving in the constant battle
    to deny, show & tell of this
    or that of beauty or good

    afraid only of one
    thing, those voices afraid
    when we pay them no mind.

  2. Stanzas 1-4, not true but powerful. Stanza 5 true! It takes real effort and vigilance to hold 1-4 off! Over time. . .

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