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She saw how the angry, greyish ocean
crashed upon the shore
with such fury and disgust
and couldn't help but compare it
to the endless nights where
she'd sit and stare at that
hateful, taunting piece of glass
with a reflection as grotesque
as the image of the waves
while they aimed to devour the coastline.
I don't feel pretty today. It happens.
I have many flaws you see
But none could ever compare
To how my eyes perceive myself;
A broken toy beyond repair

My greatest flaw-- it tops them all!--
Is that I'm never good enough
Not for my mother, nor for me
Nor for the boy that stole my love

And yet he says I'm always beautiful
He tells me I'm the only girl for him
But still I cannot bring myself
To believe a single word he's saying

~            ~             ~
I'm not sure if I'm doing this right
For all I know I could look like a fool
Hopping up and down, left to right
Dancing blindly in a chicken suit

                     ~ ~ ~

So I cover my eyes
                                                   There's daises and butterflies
And dream a happy scene
                                                              There's a quiet, bubbling stream
No longer am I here
                                                                              That reflects my image like a mirror
Instead I'm there
                                                                                                                             *One I cant bare
 Apr 2014 AnnaMarie Jenema
Trisha
from strangers to friends
from friends to good friends
from good friends to best friends
from best friends,
they started liking each other
they got along very well
they got bored of each other
he started ignoring her
and they fell apart
forever
back to being strangers again
somehow got the thing from Tumblr, but it's true hahah.
 Apr 2014 AnnaMarie Jenema
Trisha
Unfulfilled dreams
lost without at trace
crying all day
tired of faking
both a smile
and happiness
humiliated by
everyone everywhere
she loses all hope
sits on the window pane
cries her heart out
she feels helpless
finds no reason to live
grabs a knife
cuts her wrist
red all over
her last tear drop
last red
she thought all her
pain and sorrow
is all gone
but there was no one
to call her beautiful
every morning
no one to make her
feel special and happy

**Dont cut people, your skin is not paper, you're beautiful. Trust me, you are
I don't know.
Words are just broken meanings
Just constantly taking beatings.
Slowly they begin to die
More and more with every lie.
Always said and always misused
Till soon enough their souls are skewed
And they now mean nothing to you.
I love you, I promise, I will never leave you, you are beautiful to me. Words with empty meanings
 Apr 2014 AnnaMarie Jenema
bc
One
I hate myself.
Two
I'm scared to sleep at night because whenever I close my eyes it's as if the ruthless words of hatred and disgust that you throw at me relentlessly replay over and over in my head as if it was a broken record perched on the top of a dusty shelf that isn't within a reachable distance.
Three*
I don't know who I am anymore. I lost her somewhere within this sea of sadness I plunged myself into.
Four
Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless.* These are the words that taunt me everyday and latch onto me like a bloodthirsty leech that just found a new piece of flesh to feed off of.
Five
Whenever somebody tells me to be who I am and that they won't judge. I laugh. I laugh because being who I am is just a distant memory. I cant be who I am because I lost when I skipped my first meal. I lost who I was when I learned what it felt like to genuinely hate myself. I lost myself when I learned how to numb myself so that I feel nothing at all. Now here I am in present time, curled up in a ball of my own self pity, crying out all the feelings I wish I had.
Six
Somedays, I wish I could find the me that loves me, but I can't because the horrid words that you uttered to me stabbed her over and over again relentlessly and when you finally walked away, she stood there bleeding out all the love and trust she used to have.
Seven
I hate telling people how I really feel because they take it as a yearning for attention, not a cry for help. I hate telling people how I feel because they would treat me as if I was a problem and not a human.
Eight
I just wish that someone would paint on me as if I were a blank canvas and turn me into something magnificent because I am tired of continuously painting
myself in hopes that my tear-stained cheeks, lifeless eyes, and pain will turn me into the beautiful girl society expects me to be.
Nine
I just wish I was normal.

-b.c.
First poem I published on here, I hope you like it. -b.c.
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