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He tells me, but...
He calls me beautiful,
He says he loves my body,
He tells me how he wants to touch me,
He tells me I should love my body,
He tells me that my body is something to be worshiped,
He tells me that I'll be ok,
He tells me not to worry,
He tells me that my touch makes him ok- does it tho?
He tells me to love myself, the way he loves me.
But how can I love something, that I've hated for too long?
But how can I see something as beautiful after I've hurt it and starved it?
But how can I let him touch me, if every kiss is like a cut on my skin, reminding me that I'll never be as beautiful as the girls in the magazines?
(Makes little sense and lacks talent but wanted to share 😬)
© me
He says he loves my body,
He tells me how he wants to touch me,
He tells me I should love my body,
He tells me that my body is something to be worshiped,
He tells me that I'll be ok,
He tells me not to worry,
He tells me that my touch makes him ok- does it tho?
He tells me to love myself, the way he loves me.
But how can I love something, that I've hated for too long?
But how can I see something as beautiful after I've hurt it and starved it?
But how can I let him touch me, if every kiss is like a cut on my skin, reminding me that I'll never be as beautiful as the girls in the magazines?
(Makes little sense and lacks talent but wanted to share 😬)
© me
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