i hate the reality i live in
a reality where who i love is wrong
who i am is deviant
and what i look like is a threat
i hate our world
but i have no other choice but to live everyday portraying to be something i’m not
hoping to make my life somewhat acceptable
i imagine happiness like a warm bath
no matter how you twist or turn warmness comforts any anxiety
until slowly the water chills
you’re left shivering in cloudy liquid
wondering why you thought it would last forever
the image of perfection is never perfect
but yet here i am hating myself for not achieving the unattainable
thinking that somehow i’m not trying hard enough
i’m not sure if that’s low self esteem or straight up narcissism
that i of all beings could be perfection if i just tried hard enough
impossible but still in the realm of possibility
but my permanent scars, cellulite, blemish’s, and melanin
tell a different story
perfection simply isn’t me
yet i still expect myself to accomplish it
