Sometimes I hate me. I mean I'm curvy and tallish and pretty enough but there's just so much to be desired. I don't understand why nothing I seem to do ever comes out right. I'm an okay singer, a mediocre dancer, an exceptional actor that never gets a chance and a hopeful fashion designer that downright sucks. I mean, what am I here for then? Lord knows the world doesn't need another prostitute. I suck in bed, I bet, so I can't even do that... Ugh. I'm black and my hair is annoying and I'm so fucking weird. I know I should love me because it's the only me I'll be but I don't. I hate me. I hate how I'm always too jiggly. I hate how hairy I am. I hate that I forget everything. I hate that I'm not smart enough. I hate that my boobs aren't bigger. I hate that I'm only attractive sometimes. I hate that people who call me pretty seem to find something in me that I can't. I hate that I'm not tall enough to be a model. I hate that I can't draw well enough to make outfits for models. I hate that I'm so needy and clingy and I NEED everyone to be happy before I am. I hate me.
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Chronicles of Me
PoetryI've put up a wall. And I've been sad and depressed, but now it's getting broken down.
