Creative Writings

Self-Hate?

I'm tired of criticizing myself for every little imperfection of my own.

I'm tired of shaming myself for my own dislikes.

I'm exhausted from the insults you throw at me.

Why can't I be pretty like the other girls?

Do I really deserve this?

Was I suppose to be like this?

Every single time when I look deep into my reflection,

I couldn't help but to frown.

Like the slowly withering petals of a once elegant flower.

Like the once clear sky that is now covered with miserable clouds.

Like the dead leaves that falls to the ground.

You call yourself ugly, fat, disgusting, useless.

But then, what am I?

Although I am the one who constantly tells people to love themselves,

I fill myself with dirty and ruthless lies.

Hiding my pain behind that pretending smile.

Alone in the dark is my comfort zone.

Only in the dimness, you can't see my shadows.

Staining my shattered heart with ugliness and agony.

All this seems like a endless maze that was playing in the darkness.

My only wish was to be set free from this tormenting prison created my own mind.

Chaining me down to hold me in place.

I was trapped under this isolated jail, where no one can be allowed to visit.

Where I desire to be released.