self-hatred

it's been a while since i've posted on here. since my last upload, i've actually written 3 poetry books. please consider supporting me, and checking them out if my writing appeals to you.

breathing down my neck

is he who reminds,

he who finds

everything i hate about myself,

bringing it to my attention

like a highlighter against profane words.

my very own mind, it be

who attacks itself 

like a lupus complex

unexpectedly and without cause.

a rebel, indeed

a viperous seed

planted from a young age.

trauma, or not, it will engage

and poke and prod and eat away

at any hope that existed today.

by tomorrow i will awake

so subtly, i’ll wonder if i’m alive.

i’ll look at people, 

so vulnerable,

as if to say,

please have pity on me today.

please understand, 

as if you know

what it’s like to harbor 

disgust that never lets go.