'People with whom conversations feel like handwritten letters, who look at you like you are the address of their long lost postcards.'
This poem is about every girl who has been forced to bow to rigid ideas of beauty.
For every attack that tortured my soul, I won't say quiet, not anymore.
This poem describes the experience of knowing a loved one wants to help you – and their helplessness at being unable to.
'You twist my tongue, so much so that I start speaking like you.'