Self-loathing

How did I grow up to be this way?

Does any child dream of being a freak someday?

I always thought with time things would gradually improve

Now it's worse than ever

I'm criticized every way I move



I'm just so fucking insecure

I know who I am and I'm beginning to hate it

And the people I meet are more insincere

Than any of the others with whom I've related

I want to throw in the towel, say that I'm through,

But loneliness hurts more than what people say and do.



I would like to think there's a place for me somewhere

But everywhere I go is a social faux pas or another cruel snare.

I thought I've grown past the days when I thought I'd never belong

"You're just not like them," is all I hear,

But to accept this one must be strong--

Stronger than I am, that's for sure,

Stronger than me and with much more allure,

And much less selfish and insecure.

When I compliment you, I'm merely out of desire attesting

To my own lack of the qualities I find in you most arresting.

It's not respect, but envy, and it's an ugly thing

To feel like such a fuck up and an inferior human being.



But I know somewhere within I have qualities that redeem

And first impressions never do justice,

For people are rarely what they seem

We put up these fronts for self-protection

I've removed such defenses

And settled for rejection.



If being different is beautiful

Then why don't we all strive to be this way?

Yes, I know I'm not the only one who has a lot to say,

And others have just as many insecurities

And supposed reasons for such shame

I just can't help but wonder why they end up acting all the same.






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