I hate myself
because I am not
who I thought I'd be
after I climbed peaks
I set out for
and after I conquered
everything that's laid
out for me
—I am still not
who I want to be
so I hate myself for thatI hate myself
because I can't take
my dreams and
let them go
and I can't accept it
when my choices
simply doesn't work out
after all the years I've
lived through and
a thousand mistakes I made
—I am still not the wise person
people promised I'd become
so I hate myself for thatAnd how sad is it
as I look at people
who seemed to have it
all figured out
—how they love themselves
and how they praise their ego
without feeling like a fraud
They don't look like me
—who shrivel away because
I'm too caught up
in my own problems
to care about others
—and I hate myself for not
being like them
—for being different
ordinary
as such that I deserved
to be ignoredI hate myself
so much and at times
it's all I ever do
I hate myself so much
just for being the things I am
I hate myself
just for being human
YOU ARE READING
an adjournment of scars, an endearment of stitches
Poetry❝𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘢�...