3.Only on some nights
𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒈𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒔
𝑩𝒖𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒐𝒓
𝑨𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝑺𝒐 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒄 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅
𝑺𝒐 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰, 𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒑 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉
𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒕... 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒕
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The girl and her self-esteem
PoetryIn which she realizes that her lack of self-love didn't make her any less of a human being
