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Alexa Domenicone Poem
I cant carry your bones and my own
But I will because it hurts more to be alone
What you think of me is my view of myself
You design my skeleton not me or anyone else
Now that I no longer carry your bones
I hate myself wherever I go
When I look in the mirror I am haunted by my own skeleton
Disgusted by the bones you depicted that I am forced to live in
You discarded all the parts of my skeleton worth keeping
Now I understand my well being was not what you were seeking
I am now living with a crafted skeleton and chiseled bones
And your words will never leave me alone
Copyright © Alexa Domenicone | Year Posted 2026
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Alexa Domenicone Poem
Clean up this mess.
I feel defeated once more, and get the clothes off the floor.
This order has now translated to, "You're a mess."
I feel the need to impress,
But also to rest.
My mind changes and shifts words.
I feel as if I will always be unheard,
But how must I be heard if I can't speak?
Children should be seen and not heard.
I feel defeated once more; shut my mouth and close my door.
I no longer feel like I want to be heard.
The only thing that seems to please is to be seen.
My looks shift and validate me through praise of those around me.
Maybe this is the only me worth seeing.
There's no need for the rest of me.
Simple phrases pan into endless thoughts.
Ideas and phrases leaving those and me distraught.
This writing may come as a shock,
But those whose minds are similar to mine are tortured by thoughts.
Copyright © Alexa Domenicone | Year Posted 2026
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Alexa Domenicone Poem
"You're so pretty."
Those words seem to define me.
A seemingly stable presentation of everything I could be.
My appearance must mean I am strong and stable in my own mind.
I must never believe every creeping and deceiving lie.
"She must be mean."
I must be the cause of all other girls' insecurities.
Not through my looks, but through my assumed personality.
I can't be hurt by anybody.
Words don't sting as much when they graze seemingly stable skin.
But they don't know that I am as weak as I have always been.
"Physical approval must be enough."
No one notices the skipped lunch.
No one cares about the me worth knowing.
All they see is the me worth showing.
The illusion is not me.
It's your seemingly stable certainty of who I must be.
Copyright © Alexa Domenicone | Year Posted 2026
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