Most days my body speaks

in Chinese whispers;

hiding the compliments

and concealing the insults

to become congealed words

of self loathing and distaste.

 

Until the voices rise

and tremble like the peak

of a volcano;

erupting into screams

of hatred, baying for blood

and violence, teeth bared,

turning a rabid stare onto

the skin I dread to name

my own, and share

with more than the inside

of woolly jumpers

and ill fitting clothes.

 

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Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

Available internationally