I am who I am

I feel my body expand as my lungs contract as I try to fit into the space you designated for my body, but my body takes up more room than you believe it should. You sculp and mould me to your very own version of perfection, sewing my mouth shut so I cannot have an opinion on who and what I am, when I look in the mirror I no longer see my own reflection. My body is not my body, it is scarred from the way your lips beautifully carved chunks of me out, whispering in my ear like cotton candy that I will never be enough, I am and will always be too much. While your wooden hands try to carve a new copper heart to fit small and slim inside of my pear. you pour water on the wildfire that is my heart, leaving nothing but ash and coal. Sneer at the mess you made, blaming me for being too hot when you said all you wanted was to help me burn brighter than the sun. Once upon a time, you gave me hope. Your slim icy fingers run down my neck, scorching my skin, branding me as the one you do not want. You always leave me alone with a tear streaked face, dangerous thoughts, shaking hands and blood where your hands deemed unworthy of a gentle touch.