September 16, 2013 - I Hate Myself You Know

When I was little, I pictured myself with white lace and black shoes,
A red tulip in my hair,
How'd I'd dress when I'd go out at noon.

I thought I'd be skin and bones by the time I was this age,
But my imagation mislead to a wrong future of myself,
Making me believe I'd one day be 'pretty' to the guy next door,
That by chance, a person will come to my door asking for my hand.

But I was mistaken and read to many fairytale stories when I was young,
How I believed that every person finds a prince so young of 16,
How they marry and fall in love.

I'm not a princess,
I wasn't as eloquent as many 'princesses' should be,
Or have the fancy dresses or go to balls.

I didn't have a body to make boys oh and awee at me,
I had their heads turned away,
Never once meeting my glance, even if I asked for the time.

My past was pleasent,
But my present is a disaster,
I didn't picture this.

If my five your old self was among me,
I'd look at her and cry,
Because looking into my pasts eyes, I'll feel sorrow because I never made a possibilty of a better tommorow for myself.

I ruined my love for dresses,
Thinking white is for babies.

Flowers die,
As does love when it grows weak and the petals fall.

I walk around in black shoes,
Darkness clouding my thoughts and surrondings.

I thought for a moment I'd be happy with not being a princess,
But princesses hold their head up high, even in distress,
and I choose to cry every night because I turned out to be someone I hate.