PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Did I make myself so unlovable?

To make you leave

Now I stare at my reflection

Trying to diagnose my disease

Is there a doctor in the building?

I think I’m suffering from the worst case of ugly



Were you terrified when I tore my skin off?

And showed you my bones

Along with the skeletons in my closet

And the dead bodies in my basement’s stomach

I’ve got shit for a soul and a hole for a core

Turn me upside down for my smile to show



Don’t look into my eyes

I strongly advice you not to

They are so pretty

Pretty bloodshot from my addictions

You won’t resist this; you’ll be tempted to fuck me

Fuck me up real good, I bet I’m like nothing you’ve seen



Turn the lights out,

I’m bent out of shape

There’s no bottom to my shame

I’m little rotten pieces for maggots to engorge on

The smell of death on my skin

I’ve fallen in love with things that kill



I’m pretty,

pretty low

Broken,

Shattered,

Scattered,

I’m all that’s worn and tattered



Low self esteem is my religion

Defensive is my nature

Pessimism is my belief

Failure is my mission

Weird is my beauty

I think I’m suffering from the worst case of ugly