No one can love me as much as I hate myself.
Posted: 03 Mar 2019, 07:37
There’s this ugly monster sitting inside my chest. My ribs, not a cage, but the bones the monster used to build it’s throne. It’s made a home inside of me, my body a kingdom it’s conquered.
It whispers to me, late at night.
That boy is too beautiful to touch the likes of you. He burns bright, and doesn’t know that you’re too dirty to want.
You’re dirty, dirty, dirty. You will leave stains on everything you touch.
You’re ugly, too ugly to love, too ugly to touch. It hurts to look in the mirror, doesn’t it?
Don’t you know that if you’re disgusted by your reflection, that everyone else must be too? Maybe you should skip a meal or two, maybe then they’ll want you. Maybe then they’ll love you.
Not that you deserve it, of course. You’ll just mess them up. That’s all you know how to do.
It tugs on the arteries it can reach like puppet strings, controlling my every move. It makes me run, and run, and run. And my legs are so tired, I just want somewhere to rest my head, I just want someone to hold me close.
But the monster is unrelenting. The monster is vicious, like all monsters are.
I don’t know how to admit to myself that the monster is just me. That the depression, the fear, the anxiety — all of it is just me. I don't know how to admit to myself that I could be that cruel to someone. Even if that someone is me.
It whispers to me, late at night.
That boy is too beautiful to touch the likes of you. He burns bright, and doesn’t know that you’re too dirty to want.
You’re dirty, dirty, dirty. You will leave stains on everything you touch.
You’re ugly, too ugly to love, too ugly to touch. It hurts to look in the mirror, doesn’t it?
Don’t you know that if you’re disgusted by your reflection, that everyone else must be too? Maybe you should skip a meal or two, maybe then they’ll want you. Maybe then they’ll love you.
Not that you deserve it, of course. You’ll just mess them up. That’s all you know how to do.
It tugs on the arteries it can reach like puppet strings, controlling my every move. It makes me run, and run, and run. And my legs are so tired, I just want somewhere to rest my head, I just want someone to hold me close.
But the monster is unrelenting. The monster is vicious, like all monsters are.
I don’t know how to admit to myself that the monster is just me. That the depression, the fear, the anxiety — all of it is just me. I don't know how to admit to myself that I could be that cruel to someone. Even if that someone is me.