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kailasha Dec 2014
I'm in the dark deep trenches of self esteem
and have summited the mountain of self hatred.

My head is not an empty box,
my mind does harbour dreams.
I wish for stars and gold
for claps in rhythmic tones

but instead i sit and cry on about
how i just can't.
can't even bother to capitalize my i's anymore
ray Dec 2014
“do you love yourself?”
they say as you
pluck hair from your face
cover your pores with who knows what
apply blush when you are already shimmering
dye your hair the opposite of what it should be
skip dinner every week day
then throw up what you do eat
sit under the hot water until your skin aches
glue lashes to your eyelids
heat your hair until you can see right through your self esteem
**** in the gut you never had
rub self-tanner into your skin in hopes of evening not only your tan lines but your life
pierce your cartilage with metal bars
pierce your life with distractions
pierce your skin with blades you took from your little sisters pencil sharpener
pierce a hole in the things that really matter
when you let the poison run free in your blood
eating you away until you are dying from the inside out
but you keep your wounds well hidden
“yes, I love myself.”
svdgrl Dec 2014
I don't have any friends- it never mattered
until I realized that it mattered.
Every soul that got close to me
wanted nothing more than all of me.
Thus I gave myself away, time and body.
Lost control of space, self and faith.
I can say for certain I have no god.
That makes things frightening-
because all I have are my own devices.
I can't pretend to believe in imaginary essence.
Frank Ocean sings you gotta believe in something.
Music makes me feel less lonely,
but I wish I had company to enjoy it with.
I need to build myself up- all I have is sawdust.
Why is he so pretty? I'm attracted to what's shiny, dangerous and spiky.
Pretty pinwheels invite me.
I cry and complain when it hurts.
Write when I've got no one but my words.
It isn't fair to poetry.
I keep running to it as a last resort.
Maybe what I say won't amount to anything.
It pains me to say I can't call this anything
but a childish rant.
Seeking attention all along.
What's wrong with wanting
to be wanted?
I'm scared
you'll call me exotic.
At least then
I won't be invisible.
Sometimes the worst is when you're seen
as lost and abysmal.
Brie Dec 2014
Why does it seem that they all want a Nicki they can minaj
A bad girl who can only fit custom made bras
Not the good girl with the
Small waist and good grades
Small bust
And pushed to a very small sense of trust

Confident,
I don't think she ever was

She just wants to be seen as attractive
I mean why does Nicki get praised for things she wasn't even born with
 and to care that she has a beautiful voice as a gift, as if

Why don't they want the girl who doesn't care if they lift
She's wants your time
Not your money
You can keep your expensive gifts

The way we are now
It's truly a shame

And what about the girl with the body and the brains
She's trying to get an education
Make her own way
She's not trying to collect when you decide to make it rain
So take back your pennies  
Because society's the only one that really needs the change
nat Dec 2014
if only it were as easy
stick a needle
coated in positive thoughts
and have them stay
as permanent in the body
as the ink in a homemade tattoo
Zhivagos Muse Nov 2014
Be careful in this cess pool of a world if you wear your heart on your sleeve because there are vultures & wolves forever searching for their next meal. They won't think twice about consuming every inch of you, picking each bone clean. They delight in your suffering and find strength as a pack. They seek out your weaknesses and what they don't find they will surely create.

Here let me give you some fodder on which you can dine.

I had 2 surgeries this past year, one because they were looking for cancer. I have to be checked yearly, but no doubt you'll assume I somehow did something to deserve this.

Eight years ago I thought my white horse had arrived, left my job as a teacher (my room was Club Med), gave up my apartment, my car, close friends, family, and country, only to find out 2 months in that it was all a lie.

Your Pastor says divorce is not an option, so you commit to trying to make the fiction somehow work, but after years of chaos and too many grey days you consider, maybe, just maybe you deserve something better than the hand you've been dealt.

So you throw those cards into the wind and you start from your own ground zero.

Your terrified of an unknown future, but more terrified of remaining in a life so monotonous that you question why you're even bothering to wake up each day.

You prepare to put your older dog asleep, you're not sure what will come of the other, you have boxes to pack for your 9th move in 8 years at a time when families are coming together and yours is coming to an end.

Your drowning in a sea of work but you have no choice but to somehow find 28 hours in a day because success has finally shown up at your door & you've worked way too hard to watch it simply turn around and leave.

You paint nearly everyday, exhausted, but can't sleep, you can't remember your last break, let alone vacation.
Your paints are quite frankly your only motivation.

You want to scream, run, hide, find some type of escape, but you're given no such relief. All that remains is an awkward ride to the airport, a hug, and a fare thee well to a chapter of your life you wish you could've ended sooner if only you had discovered your worth.

Is that enough for you?

Because I could give you so much more...let my life story be an after dinner mint so no one has to smell my flesh on your breath.

Let the floods and fires come, I'm done with this world.
I have never belonged and I no longer care to.
An army of one, content on my own.
Kate Nov 2014
He doesn't understand when I tell him
"I'm ugly, but it's okay I'm fine with it"
"I know I'm big, but it doesn't bother me"
"Listen hon, you don't have to spend every minute with me, I know you're gonna be bored if that happens"

He doesn't get that I have spent years accepting the fact that I am
fat, ugly, boring
I can say these things and not have any self hatred when I say them
at least, not overt

But he kisses me and says
he doesn't know how I could think that
that I am beautiful, badass, interesting, cute, and wonderful
He says it so sincerely that I can't bear to contradict him

The thing is, the more he says it
the more I'm starting to believe him
Kay Nov 2014
You are beautiful.

You have two strange knees

and a loud mouth

and short hair

and too much time on your hands.

You have told me all of these things

Now I tell them to myself.

I love you.

You'll make one hell of a poem.

One hell of a story.

You are mine.

You have told me all of these things.

Now I tell them to myself.
Sarah Logan Oct 2014
She puts on a sun dress
Trying to emphasize the lumps on her chest
But no amount of makeup or even a bow
Can distract from the fact that her self esteem's  low
She's ugly and she knows it
She's bitter and she shows it
Keep writing your chicken scratch and waving it high
As all of the people keep passing you by
You crave their attention and desire their praise
But they just keep on walking, ignoring you for days.
So she pulls down her collar to an all new low
Trying to put on a better show
They have no more pity for the girl with short hair
They just can't seem to muster a single care
Unkown Oct 2014
men on horses
came for her love
but she sent them away
wanting mine

her ancestors corpses
tossed in there tombs
for they foresaw a future untrue

she was the queen of all of the land
and I was poor peasant dammed
cursed and spat upon, unworthy to lye in her arms
beheaded they begged for me to be
I sided with them and silently agreed
for am unworthy
she is draped in gold
I'm wearing rags and mold

her eyes tell me her love is authentic
her motives are never impure
I shall strive to be the man that can
love her beyond my fear

one day they will call me royal
and not because of my wife's status
tall I stand, I will rule this land
not just men or this palace
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