Rejection.
To describe how it makes me feel would Be pointless.
It is a numb repetitive feeling, full of sloppy apologies and awkward moments.
Blank, I feel nothing as if this happens as a daily ritual.
Will anyone like me
Will anyone want me
But who could want an overweight
Ugly girl, with the confidence of a mouse among men. Or a woman among mice.
Frankly, I just feel a dull sharp pain, the knowing of not being good enough.
It burns your heart.
But the knowing of the complete impossibility of love is the feeling I have come to know and enjoy the most.
Solitary, to build love for yourself.
YOU ARE READING
Heart of Moss
PoesíaThis is a book of my everyday life and what I feel. This is my life and I would love for you to live through it with me. It's from rants, to poetry, to just plain writing. It's bout whatever sucks ass or whatever is unbelievably awesome and whatever...
