(This is a vent session I had with myself today. The poem after I wrote a week ago. I actually handwritten this on a concrete table with a pencil, making the handwriting a look practically illegible. I had no intentions on posting this here, I just had to let the demons out before I started crying at work of all places. My coworker actually saw me holding the note and said “That’s a-lot of writing.”)

Recently, I have been fantasizing a lot abbot a pink-haired girl who has it all. Perfect face, perfect body, many friends, plenty money, a lifetime achievement. This is who I want to be. I’ve admittedly created this Mary Sue in my head to escape to a life that could of been. Instead, I live in reality. Pimples, bushy eyebrows, small lips, brown hair, fat, oddly built, hormonal issues, ugly feet, broke, lonely and unaccomplished. Why am I ripping into myself so hard? Well, I wish admittedly that one day I could just wake up and be in my dreams I wrote this sitting at work, a place that has great people, but has become a reminder that I long for change. Many co-workers have left for better things. Things I yearn for me to see, feel, hear. I have become distant from my family, my parents love me, and I love them. But its many things they wouldn’t understand. ow fallen I have become. This started at 22, when my ex-boyfriend ghosted me out of nowhere, I then had a religious awakening which now I attribute to just feeling lonely. Like when a person experiences something traumatic and find ways to cope. Some turn to drinking, others turn to drugs, mine was writing. Something everyone claimed I was good at. I even convinced myself this. But I’m not good, good writers can translate their feelings better than anything I…

When I got to that part above, I couldn’t finish. Something told me to stop. Maybe God, my ego, or it could be nothing. Something or somebody thinks I’m a good writer, Something or someone thinks I’m beautiful. Something or someone thinks I’m worth it.

Or it could be nothing, life is strange like that.

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Enemy:

I’d rather have you an enemy than a friend

Because a friend knows nothing

While an enemy knows everything

You say your not against me

I wish you wish you were, maybe I’ll actually open up

To give you a reason to hate me

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