|
|
||
|
A constant belief of insignificance hangs overhead My stab at withholding my abnormality fails People know what I am, but won't let it be said They tend to overlook the imperfection that is me It seems they're love for me deceives their eyes My confidence is scant, so that only I can see My self-pitying and worthlessness is no disguise I am me as much as I loath and disapprove Only shadows and disinterest can make me obscure The lack of distinction that dusk delivers does soothe At night I am stronger, I am able to open a door I cower in the gloom and prepare to confront me No need to hide, I study my soul, my physical form And feel only hate, anger, bitterness for what I see Resentment, disgust, aversion, all these are the norm. No one can relieve me, like I once thought they could Talking, tablets and letters cannot help me change Liking yourself is what everyone does, I know I should People love me so why can't I. Am I that strange? I know that I'm ailing, that's the very first stage To my friends Ana and Mia I shall say good-bye When I am free of them I will start a new page It is my life, my choice, to win or lose, to live or die. |
||
|
|
||
|
|
||