Crownd with shame,

holding flowers of regret,

wearing a dress of guilt,

shoes laced with lies,

skin covered in broken rules,

lips mopped with secrets.

Eyes fixated on hungry wishes,

mind running on temptation,

blood infused with sins

that I call mine.

I was created by broken pieces of a wrongful truth.

A past that affected me to be a different self.

You caused this.

I do it for attention because I don't get enough.

So when you see me,

thank yourself for creating the person I am.