Dear Me,
I hate myself, I hate me.
I hate that I'm a fool, and I let people take advantage of me, but then again, who am I in this world? I am nothing but a burden, so maybe I am being useful by making a fool out of myself. I hate that I trust people when all they stab me behind my back, but can I blame them? Look at me, I don't deserve the happy life I live, the people who care for me and ones who love me. I don't deserve a life yet God found it fun to give one to me.
I don't deserve anything good that comes my way, because I am why people cry, I'm why people around me can never be happy. I hate that I'm such a disappointment, a burden. I hate that I'm worthless, I hate that I'm the reason why people can never be happy.
Don't you get it?
Everyone around me, including you, could be even happier if I'm gone- yet I'm such a coward for not being able to do it again. Why? Because I'm stupid enough to hold onto something that doesn't even make sense. I'm holding onto something that has hurt me the most. Or because I'm afraid I'd fail again like I did before? It's actually funny, I even failed trying to end it all, I failed not once, but twice- aren't I such a failure?
I fail at everything in life.
I fail at being a good daughter, a good sister, a granddaughter, a good friend, a good girlfriend- I failed at everything and I don't know how to change that anymore. No matter how much I try, nothing works out- nothing. It hurts so bad, I want it all to stop. I want to stop hurting people by just being around them.
I hate myself, I hate myself so much and I don't know what to do about it anymore.
Yours truly, me.
YOU ARE READING
Eunoia • Book One
Poetrycurrently - completed. ❝ 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰, 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 ❞ Book One of Eunoia (Beautiful Thinking). A book with words dipped in emotions of a young soul. A book of different genres of poems and so on, but it's also just an...
