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 Jan 2014 blair asher
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.
 Jan 2014 blair asher
hkr
cells ig
 Jan 2014 blair asher
hkr
snakes get a new skin
every one
two
three months

we get one every
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven years

in five year's time
i'll have a skin
you never
touched

and i'll still probably
be conflicted
on how i feel
about that.
hold yourself above
the scars of my heart
displayed on my wrist
stomach and thighs
hold yourself
higher than my
low life
existence
 Jan 2014 blair asher
Megan Grace
how was today not enough for me when
today was you and that antique store you
love and you being so completely you.
when you dropped me off at my door you
waved the way I love with just your index
finger and I wanted to ask you to stay, to
come up and be quiet with me in my drafty
apartment, but instead I just watched
you wink at me and disappear around
the corner. why didn't I ask you to stay?
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