They say that "You're your own worst critic."
In that case, I have it out for myself.

I say this because whenever I create something, whether it be poetry or fiction
I find every f̶l̶a̶w̶
Every e̶r̶r̶o̶r̶
Every m̶i̶s̶t̶a̶k̶e̶
Every word
And point it out
Showing myself the absolute m̶e̶a̶n̶i̶n̶g̶  nothingness they convey
Reminding myself that

All my work is a̶c̶c̶e̶p̶t̶a̶b̶l̶e̶  terrible
I a̶m̶ ̶a̶ ̶w̶r̶i̶t̶e̶r̶  am not good
I should c̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶r̶e̶  give up

And with that
The familiar feeling of doubt continues to crawl under my skin and through my head
Whispering sweet nothings into my ear as I type
As I look at the screen,
As I look at what I have accomplished:
s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶
Nothing

I l̶o̶v̶e̶  hate it

I leave it be
Unfinished and hated
For d̶a̶y̶s̶
W̶e̶e̶k̶s̶
Months at a time
Until I come back
Remembering the words
Remembering the hatred

Mr. Hemingway had once said “You shouldn’t write if you can’t write.”
Brilliant man.
Brilliant writer.

However
People seem to enjoy my words and my writing
So the question arises:
"What if I can write, but am convinced that I can't?"
Should I still give up?
Should I force myself to write, as I am now
Hating every w̶o̶r̶d̶  flaw?
What should I do if the only force that stops me from writing freely
is my own self hatred?

The only option to combat this doubt
is to convince myself that I am g̶o̶o̶d̶
T̶a̶l̶e̶n̶t̶e̶d̶
C̶r̶e̶a̶t̶i̶v̶e̶
A̶m̶a̶z̶i̶n̶g̶
A̶r̶t̶i­̶s̶t̶i̶c̶
Me

*******̶

My own d̶e̶p̶r̶e̶s̶s̶i̶o̶n̶  worst critic.
**** you for being right.