Self-doubt comes as a seed,

planted in the heart of a young girl

in the form of a cruel word,

a whisper

"you are ugly"

And grows into a poison flower

of full-blown loathing

with thorns of hatred that pierce her lungs,

stabbing through her windpipe,

vines climbing up her throat

until a flower blooms from her mouth,

a blossom,

petals wrought with loveless words,

"I am ugly"

Roots going deep

down into the far reaches,

the soil of her soul

and thrive upon her tears

drinking life from misery

as she longs to be anyone but herself

the words,

"you are beautiful,"

a foreign language she will never know

nor completely understand

because no matter how hard she tries to uproot

the lie grown inside her,

hatred leaves its mark;

the land scarred,

the garden empty