My Demise.

I pulled back from myself, lied to myself, shamed myself

Spent years hiding from myself, hating who I am, loving who I'm not

Shed tears of distraught, lost all my trust;

In who I am and who I wanted to be.

I didn't think I'd have this life, pondering a day I'd never be

Praying that I'd never see the light of day and that I'd feel happier this way

Who knew that'd be me?

Not me, you see, 'cause I just wanted to be liked: to be small, to be pretty, to be smart.

Have a body like the other girls and have a line a guys chasing my luxurious tail

But that was the opposite of me. A version I'd never achieve.

And anger took me over and pain filled my brain

I felt insane; I was being dragged down by chains in my own name

And I gave in and fell, scraped my knees, spilled my blood, cursed myself and harmed myself because I was the only one to blame.

And scars prove my shame.

And it seems that's all I have to my name: a bowl of blame for an unwanted dame by the name of...

I...

I taught myself to hate who I am and I didn't see any other plan

And harming was the only craft that would truly signify my wrath;

Towards the world and everything I was because I wasn't "me" because I was still aiming to be "you".

'Cause how can I be myself when I don't even know how to accept the person on the shelf, in the mirror?

It's like eternal detention, trying to find a way towards better intentions

To find  a way out and be who I am and not what I see

'Cause all I see is perfection and get bogged down with depression and rejection

I realize that I'm far from the state of being that I yearn for

But I continue seeing the word (perfection) flash behind my eyes

And it helps me realize that my wrathful sorrow is a disguise that inevitable enables my demise.

Written 02-Feb-2014 22:55