#self-hate
I hate myself
I hate how I don't talk
I hate my fake smiles and laughs
I hate the mask of makeup I put on my face
Just to feel a little prettier
I hate how I look
Never skinner enough
No matter what I do
I hate myself
I hate how I have no friends
And how I will stay at home
Cutting my arm into a millions pieces
Just to feel something
I hate how everyone thinks that I am always like that
I hate no one will notice when I cry
I hate myself
I hate my body
I am trapped in and I can't escape
I hate how you don't notice how unhappy I am
And how I want to die
More than anything
But you have never seen me happy.
Not always depressed
With how I think people will think about me.
I hate myself
But I am trying to feel better
But I keep pushing myself down
I hate myself
I hate myself
I hate how you love me
I hate how you love my curves
And love how I snort when I truly laugh
I hate myself
But I will love myself if you will stay.
I hate how much you love me.
I hate myself
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 4:59 PM UTC
Just breath in and out
But how do I do that?
Every breath seems to take more air out
Until I am suffocating on nothing at all
Breath
Take it one step at a time
But how do I do that?
Every step I take turns into a tumble
And now I am falling to my ultimate doom.
Breath
Everything will work out in the end
Or it won't
Maybe I was meant to fall and crash and burn
The minute I was born
Breath
Don't worry
But it is only going down hill
A never ending tumble
Until I crash and burn
And breath in the smoke
Until I suffocate
On nothing at all
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 2:52 AM UTC
i am so ugly, why am i ugly
i am not happening, what is happening,
still so ugly, i am trash
so minnesota, i am abstract
forget my alibi, i am so ugly
**** what im worth, i have these maggots
inside me living, morbidly filthy
deserve to live me, i am so filthy
no one has done me,
no one i am
i have these maggots, here to preserve me
i am not me, i am these maggots,
they represent me, deserve to live in me,
i am so filthy, plz just **** me
forget the feeling, i have no feeling
simple being, i am so ugly,
i feel so ugly, feeling like stealing,
i am stealing, breathless feeling
senseless beating, set fire to me
i am so ugly, so ******* filthy.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 3:21 PM UTC
Everyday I suffer from self-hate
I never know why I have this fate
Everytime I smile, I feel insecure
I hope there is a cure
Giving up has always been an option
Because it feels like I have no direction
Is living really worthwhile?
You feel awful even when you smile
I used to imagine a future so bright
But now it's just as dark as night
Cutting myself seems predictable
But I always make sure that it isn't visible
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 8:03 AM UTC
I am not who I think I am—
I never said I was
Sometimes I’m
a monster—
swirling, yellowgreen skin,
bristly coils of
hair sticking
out,
strumlike underneath
your fingertips—
sometimes I’m
a normal guy,
angry and hungry
with greasy-tousled
greasy locks—
or a subaverage
woman,
curvy and compassionate,
warm *****
beckoning to all
bereft—
most often, I’m a
translucent ghost,
too little there
yet not enough gone,
genderless,
formless,
obsolete
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
My impending fear,
With danger near,
Only increased until I began to see myself wondering how he left without shedding a single tear.
And happiness,
My biggest weakness,
Was on a constant downward spiral into something that made even myself wish to digress.
But suddenly,
Fairly abruptly,
I began to understand how his absence brought me a soft feeling of serenity.
My excuses,
Hidden bruises,
I was reluctant to push the blame onto anyone but myself even though I didn't choose this.
People asked me,
Quite literally,
If I was aware that I smiled brighter and laughed louder now that I've had this epiphany.
And finally,
Now I can see,
I allowed myself to be taken for granted just so I wouldn't have to be lonely.
And in the end,
I recommend,
Looking inside yourself and seeing the broken bonds you must mend.
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 9:12 PM UTC
She looks in the mirror;
Oh, how ugly! You say.
She touches her soft pink lips;
And you remind her of her ugly lies.
Ugly lies! Ugly lies!
Only trash coming from her heart.
She looks at her eyes;
Her dull, soulless eyes —
You tell her, how bland!
How flat and bleak!
It’s because of all the things
That she has seen.
She looks at her body;
You say, what an ugly mess!
You have all these fats
Placed in the wrong spots.
Why not starve yourself to death?
She turns around and looks at her back
You remind her
Of the ugly gnarled scars
And how she was backstabbed
By all that she loved
Because she is insecure
And will never be loved.
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
Waiting my turn in
----------------------------- line
for the golden star
from Self-Gratification.
Now to find the shortest aisle.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 1:29 AM UTC
In the night,
my demons come to life.
In the night,
I lose my will to fight.
Joy replaces by fear,
laughter becomes tears.
No light to be seen.
No warmth to be felt.
Hiding under the covers,
praying for the morning to come.
I lost my mind,
My body feels numb.
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 2:47 PM UTC
I love you so much, that I think you’ll hate me
When I **** in trying to be helpful
Instead I get into **** that’s none of my business
When I hesitate to tell you something
I wait days, or till the last minute
And ******* the devil would be scared by your anger
You make me go higher, get stronger, be kinder
But...is it just because you expect me to?
I can’t breath, air too hot for my lungs
I feel anything but disgust at myself for being a mistake
I can’t see cuz of these tears
These ******* ************* tears
I love you so, so, so much
Yet, your love makes me afraid of you
Cuz I think I’ll never deserve it
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 10:29 PM UTC
When you let the mind debate
The things you distaste
About yourself, what a waste
Foolish to take the bait
Failing to contemplate
The fact were letting self hate dictate
Our lives, sealing fate
~~~~~
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 9:04 AM UTC
if i show you
will you understand?
how i've outlined these arms
vein after vein
where sunlight runs
i see only
lines to trace
i got a barcode on my wrists
scan me for the price
of beauty
i am as expensive
as what people think of me.
do you know what it feels like
to attach your worth
to weighing scales
and waists that never
slim down?
is this why they call them
shoulder blades
to cut through
your skin
to be called
"pretty"
thigh gaps that map
the distance between your legs
to make you
matter so much
you can't stand on your own
feet.
when you walk the shoes
we wear
will you know?
the path to be
called beautiful
is full of
self-hate
and we pay for that bill.
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
1.
assert yourself as someone strong, someone capable
make it seem like nothing hurts you
it doesn't matter if you slip up sometimes - you're only human
but it has to be rare.
if you feel like crying, convert it to anger
let the rage overwhelm you to the point where you're blind with it
let it become so overpowering that it blinds everybody else too
the blind won't see your sadness; the blind will
avert their eyes
in fear
2.
you don't feel things like other people do
your emotions are never strong, unless you're feeling angry
or depressed
but you keep those quiet, only ever spoken softly
to close friends,
these secrets hidden like taboos.
you don't care, you don't love
don't let them convince you otherwise
show them how much apathy you have inside you by letting go of hate and love altogether-
when they cut you open, let them find nothing but bland organs;
your only colour is red because you do bleed
you're still only human
but you don't bleed your soul like ink onto journal pages
that would mean you feel something - and you don't
3.
never smile in photos, never smile in your selfies
let them see you're "fine" even if your eyes are shaded with Midnight's charcoal pencils
and lined red with Two AM's pencil crayons;
the coffee in your hand isn't a sign of exhaustion - you're just bitter
no milk, no sugar
this helps you succeed with steps 1 and 2 as well
you're strong enough to stomach the caustic nature of black coffee,
you can't feel it burn your throat on the way down
and you don't flinch nor grimace when it lingers on your tongue.
you've already bitten back enough of the harsh thoughts that try to slip out like saliva,
impossible to miss, impossible to avoid;
your tongue is numb to the taste of salts and sours,
of words so violent
they land blows significant enough to sign death sentences
4.
let them know that you
are a bomb
ticking, teetering, trembling with the temptation to trigger terror
your hands stay curled into fists that you'll rarely throw, always ready
always willing to go
no one will ever say another bad thing about you, and if they do
it won't be to your face
no one you know is brave enough to look Death straight in the eye and taunt him
by now your defenses are so thick and sturdy that they'll call them bomb shells
covering what's burning away inside you, unforgiving, toxic
but it's your cool, collected carvings of ****** expressions
that'll leave them with the most shell-shock.
and they'll never find out that the only trigger in you
is a self-destruct button
because you've always hurt yourself more than you've ever hurt others.
you keep it that way, and they'll never know how much
you
actually
do
care.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 7:34 PM UTC
i write about you
but you do not exist
or maybe you do;
maybe you do and i'm just talking to myself
maybe you're just another part of me that i hate so much
i have to talk to you,
i have to
punish you
because i know i shouldn't like the way it feels-
and i don't; but i keep coming back for more anyway
i amend: i know i shouldn't be addicted to this hatred
you tear me open and pull at my frayed edges
so that i split apart and lose my functionality - and i let you
then i let you thread me back together once more
you build my body with thicker wool each time, hoping that
one day
i'll be warmer, and harder to unravel
and you sew my edges with fragile promises of a better future
as breakable as the metal pin that bends between your crafty fingers
the materials started off so colourful at first, like rainbows
maybe that's why i'm so queer
though over time you started toning down my personality.
as my depression embroidered me, my sexuality dulled
purple and black and white and grey
you manipulate my patterns.
some nights i sleep through, others i don't sleep at all
and some nights my strings are stretched so taut across the nightmares
that one small pull will undo me
i am ripped apart then made into patchwork;
there are white seams over my arms
you call me a work in progress, damaged goods
to be fixed, to be mended:
you can't afford replacements
that doesn't stop you from looking
wishing you could upgrade me into something more,
something better
and every time i fall apart again
i'm left itching with apologies
but never to you; i never say sorry for hurting you
my only regrets are to those who become collateral damage.
i do not apologise to you
because you are me, and i am you
you are a part of me
and i hate you as much as i hate myself.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
When I'm with friends
I am supposed to be happy
I am supposed to laugh at their jokes
I am supposed to have intellectual discussion
I am supposed to talk about love, lust and life
I do these things but I don't feel them like I should
Warm and fuzzy feelings
A sense of accomplishment for the things I do
All of which is not there
Instead replaced with a sense of numbness
A numbness that spreads from the tips of my toes to my watery eyes
All of which is directed by my unmanned control panel
Sure there are some days that I want to cry
But I'm not sad because of anything
I'm sad because of indifference
Indifference to the pleasure and pain in my life
Indifference toward whether or not the people around me love me
It seems that the only indifference I don't have is indifference to myself
I hate myself for being this way
Looking into the past like a pool of water
Convinced that I can even do anything besides splash it
And when I turn around to look to the future
Finding that I am surrounded by a jail cell with bars and no keys
Trapped forever in a state of perpetual limbo of pathetic self-pity
I find it hard to express myself because when I do
I am told repeatedly that I need to put it aside
Like it's okay that I am feeling it alone
Like it's okay that I feel there are only ever two types of days
Bad days or worse days
Like it's okay that I pray every day that today won't be a worse day
Maybe if I had control it would be okay
Maybe if I treated my failures like no big deal it would be okay
Maybe if I had a motivation or a sense of purpose it would be okay
But I have none of those things
So it's not okay
Nothing is okay and I will never be okay
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 12:49 AM UTC
You should have only had one chance
And you failed You got another
One other chance to be a better brother
He tries to look up to You
Says he loves You with those eyes
Too bad You're too **** busy looking at Your girls thighs
Begs for You to listen
They call tell You to come over
Can't! You're too busy ******* Your lover
Respect Your elders You never listen
Since after You *** You're too busy pissin'
No one thought You were enough!
You had to go and get busy working
Yet Your ignorance is clouded by the darkness that is lurking
Gotta run to this place and You gotta run to that
You say, "Nope sorry, see you later, can't chat!"
You are a ******* fool
You are a liar, a thief
You are watching him fail and You don't care!
No one needs You, no one wants You
No one cares about You for who You are
No one wants You for who You are
Because the world doesn't want You
The world would be better off without You
I hope You die because then I wouldn't be able to hate You so much.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 11:44 PM UTC
Wow, what even is this?
Terrible, terrible.
Why do you even bother, it’s no good
Thanks, now get out.
I admit I’m not the next Frost
I may not even be the next anyone.
So, without further ado, I’m sorry.
I apologize.
I’m sorry Blake, Burns, Wordsworth.
I’m sorry Poe, Frost, Ginsburg.
I’m sorry Plath, Petersen, Bremer.
I’m sorry Church, Winter, Dychkowski.
I don’t measure up, I don’t even rhyme
Selfishness is my reason for this
Feelings on paper and thoughts in obscurity
All written without form, no scheme
Is it real if it doesn’t make sense?
I’m not stopping, no, I’ll persevere
But I offer up these apologies to those who are poets
Somehow I got labeled with you
Somehow I ended up here.
Poetry. My one stay. An escape I can always turn to.
I’m sorry.
My apologies.
Forgive my excuse.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
you’ve broken me
you wrapped your hands around my throat
and whispered your words of malign, pulling my hair
cutting my tongue
there’s no escaping you, old friend of mine
but I lost you in the tremors of my mind
used to be filled with beauty, kindness and grace
but I don’t even recognise your face
I look at you with disgust
and you look back at me with revulsion
I clench my fist, you clench yours
now, shards of glass are on the floor
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 7:50 AM UTC
Hello Love I'm breaking up with you
tired of all the little things you do
and I'm telling you now cause I'm feeling blue.
You might return, but I don't think so
can't believe what you choose to show
not that you say what I already know.
Forget you loved me
time moves on you'll soon see
that some love isn't meant to be.
Goodbye my inner demon so divine
hey Pauline I won't let you shine
I'm taking this broken reflection as my sign.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC
Your not good enough,
Especially not for him.
Your too difficult,
Not worth his time.
He doesn't love you,
Never has,
Never will.
Why would he?
Have you looked in the mirror,
Ugly
Fat
Gross.
You pathetic
Worthless
Piece of ****
Why should he love you?
You're nothing.
Nothing but an object,
A *** toy,
A play thing.
For him to use,
And throw away.
You're not worth it.
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 12:18 AM UTC
***baby my body is a masterpiece
my scars are a work of art
every battle and every victory
has had its own important part
my legs were my canvas
my blades were the paint
by night I was Picasso
and by day I was a saint***
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC