“I think I am starting to accept the fact that
no one would want me.
No one would walk towards me, and tell me that they like me.
No one would ever send me letters
saying how they truly feel about me.
I am starting to accept the fact that I will never
look good enough to capture someone’s eyes.
I am starting to accept the fact that I will never
be loved the way I always wanted to be.”
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PoetrySometimes, when things seem to fall down, and when we can't seek help with picking the fallen pieces up, we tend to do it by ourselves in silence. I want for us to cease believing that we are just inconvenience for others. I wrote this book as raw a...
