literature

Sickening

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Literature Text

Feeding off of what others say of me,
Feasting off of the compliments
And pushing aside the critiques and flames,
Building up my tower of Ego.

Many have said and continue to say
That I am sweet, loving, nice, and caring.
And to them all I can do is say nay,
For deep within I am rotten and disgusting.

Little do they know how I truly feel about myself,
Little do they know that I feed off their kind words,
Little do they know that I am starving for good towards me
And seem to hardly take notice of them afterwards.

Guilty. Disgusting. Putrid. Disloyal. Horrid. Cretin.
How dare I say I'm a woman of God.
This disgrace laid thick with rot and slime
Deep down within my innerds in place of my heart.

The nerve of me saying I'm a friend when really
I truly feel a foe, the most horrible foe,
The one people trust and come to
And secretely, ever so discretely, stab their backs.

Why...? Why do people utter such kind words to me?
I don't deserve them. I really don't.
This betrayal sickens me, sickens me..
I want to wave it off but cannot.

People tell me words of kindness,
Compliments and words of admiration,
When really I feel like the worst thing
To ever crawl this very earth.

It sickens me...
-Edit- Moved to scraps. Dun feel like I've done how I feel enough justice.

I don't know... I don't feel like I deserve such kindness from others, even though they say otherwise. I didn't and still don't do many of what was mentioned in the poem but it sure as heck feels like it sometimes. I don't deserve pity nor kind words. It's by the grace of God that I am the way I am. If it weren't for Him, I doubt anyone would want to be near me and if it weren't for Him, I'd be dead by now, most likely by my own hands. I'm not asking for pity or anything, which is one of the reasons why I'm disabling comments. I really just wanted to let this out.
© 2010 - 2024 lonesome-wolf-child
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