Feelings On Paper

loathe

wondering when the day will come,

in which I forget that feeling,

of self-hatred.

hateful at its best,

as I loathe the feeling,

and the feeling loathes me.

I forget to breathe when I see those marks on my body,

remembering that I am not as pretty as other girls,

that I will never amount in a beauty pageant.

Never even the runner up,

never the girl everyone crushes on,

never the girl every girl envies.

I remember when that feeling was nonexistent,

feeling light,

without a weight being pressured onto my spine.

The constant pressure,

making my body want to eat itself up,

devour the very thing I hate most.

For the spot light will forever be shut off in my own life,

as I am too afraid to even turn it on,

knowing it will always be on someone else.