I hate being me
I hate it when I cry
When my tears fall silently like quiet rain
and it leaves a small water stain
on what used to be perfect paper
I hate it when I can't cry
when there is a large pit in my empty stomach
and I can't do anything about it
but sit and watch the flashbacks play
before my dry eyes
I hate it when I'm happy
when I yell out the nearest thing on my curious mind
and embarress myself so badly that I just want to hide
When I talk to loudly or blurt out at random times
I'd rather just be quiet and sad.
I guess I just hate it when I'm me.
This poem is about:
Me