My Little Book of Poetry

Sometimes I Hate Me

Sometimes I hate me

I know that hate is a strong word but I often feel that it's the right one

I know we are supposed to feel special
That we are a miracle
And our very existence is a wonder
A beautiful work of art

But sometimes I can't stand myself

I hate my mind 

The way my thoughts bounce around like a pinball game
Never standing still for a moment
Sometimes going too fast for even me to catch

I hate my soul

I despise that every word spoken to me is like an arrow and hits the mark every time
Words like, "too big", "too loud", "too expressive", "too annoying"

But most of all I hate my body

I hate that casting directors will look at me and say, "you are just ever so motherly"

Which is just another way of saying
I'm talented, but too big to play the pretty girl
That I won't make it
Unless I'm a size zero

I hate my imagination

It dreams up scenarios
That I'm successful in my craft
First show by 25
And a Tony award by 30

I know it's not true

But every part of me craves it
I want this with everything I am
It's what I was meant to do

But the world is cruel, like that
It'll give you a dream
And then lock you away behind a wall
Only able to look at it from a window
And no chance of freedom at all