I hate myself.
I hate my hair.
I hate my eyes.
I hate my body.
I hate how I act.
I hate how I put up this facade.
This act of me liking who I am.
I walk around people who think I have such confidence but really half the time I can't stand myself.
My moods switches from this happy smile but as soon I get quiet and alone I start thinking about myself.
And as soon as I start thinking everyone thinks I'm mad at them.
No I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself.
I'm sorry I get this way.
I'm sorry I just can't stand myself.
YOU ARE READING
Poems. My storys into words.
PoesíaMy poems. I'm not a professional, pretty far from it, these are really just my thoughts put into words.
