deserving

a small free-verse sortof poem

It was a summer night

and I thought of you

pills on my tongue

you hadn't a clue.

Another night,

a knife on my wrist

holding back so much

death was my wish

Then I moved on

from the silly antics

and decided to starve

some days I ate

because I thought I didn't deserve to be good looking

I didn't deserve to be skinny

it was the most bizarre feeling.

other days I was motivated

wishing to be pretty

decent looking

maybe,

eventually,

beautiful

I'm so torn

between living and dying

because I'll never be pretty

I'll never be talented

I'll never be worth it.

Author's Note

kind of just getting thoughts out

Reviews

[Jesse Lancaster]

A loooot of negativity. Too much for someone like you. :P
I like your use of font: bolding, minimizing and even shrinking to emphasize.
Although a sad thought, your portrayal of cutting and overdosing as "silly antics" is strong and shows how you compare raw depression to anorexia. The beginning of your last stanza, "I'm so torn between living and dying" says a lot. Almost like you don't want to continue to struggle with these feelings but you're hopeful for some sort of closure at the end of the road. Good job.