Price I Paid Poem by Za7ra Sulaiman

I've given up my body more times than I've been given flowers.
Funny, isn't it? I hate my body. But I love flowers.

I let them in. Let them touch the parts no one else sees.
Hoping they'd want more than skin.
They never do.

They don't ask how I take my coffee.
Or why I flinch.
They don't see the softness.
Don't stay long enough to know I love lilies.

I lie in borrowed beds.
Let strangers press into me.
Trying to feel whole.
But I only feel hollow.

This isn't love.
It's what I've settled for.
A moment. A body. Never a person.

I wanted more.
But they never stay.
No flowers.
Just hands.