I don’t like me:
Countless hours I’ve spent infront of the mirror, many scars I’ve occurred from my nails digging into my skin.
Too many days used up of me on edge, wondering if they’re talking about me behind their hands.
From my hair to my features, my lips to the chub I have all over. I hate it. I hate it all. But I couldn’t image me any other way.
In all the cracked mirrors I look through, I keep trying to rearrange the pieces. But it all leads me to one question.
I don’t like me,
So why do you?
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Author:
Georgia Watson (
Offline)
- Published: July 3rd, 2025 07:10
- Comment from author about the poem: Hi. It’s me. I’m back. Hello. Sorry I keep forgetting to do this lmao.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
- Users favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan, Damaso, Tristan Robert Lange
Comments3
A poem of an inner search for value and the questioning of why others see things that are not seen by the person themselves. An existential search for value in a raw write of questioning. Nicely done
Thank you
A raw and powerful write questioning why the world See's them different from how they see themselves, a strong lack of self value and understanding, nicely expressed and written
Thank you
You are very welcome
Been here said these words, maybe not exactly...but yeah. I am finally, though I know my dislike of me is not over, starting to love myself, despite the "liking". And, as a result, the liking is coming along! LOL! Not always, though. Anywho, I needed to read this, clearly. So, thank you for writing it, my friend. I am a fan. This is a fave. 🌹👏
Thank you xx
You are most welcome!
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