I am ugly

I’ve come to terms with it 

I don’t meet the standards 

I cannot even speak to beauty 

probably because I shouldn’t 

why waste your time with mine… 

I don’t know much about life… 

but I don’t value my own 

I don’t even want to create life

I don’t even want to be alive 

but I am… I don’t know why 

I don’t know why God 

why do you keep me alive… 

there are tears coming down 

as I type 

what type am I for you? 

am I just a tool

am I just a body 

am I just a mind

a man

that’s manipulated

conditioned and controlled 

I don’t know how to keep living 

maybe just be satisfied 

being in a cycle of pain… 

I thank you God 

for at least pain 

for all things with pleasure