self-worth
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Cold and Alone
A girl,
Little more than a skeleton in this fallen world,
Balls herself up in a corner of this small room,
Freezing,
I used to think that being alone was a bad thing, and that you need others to have fun,
But as I am getting older, I am realizing that you don't need anyone else to get things done.
I used to think that being alone was a bad thing, and that you need others to have fun,
But as I am getting older, I am realizing that you don't need anyone else to get things done.
Why is it that it is so easy to forgive other people, but we I have such a hard time forgiving me?
That I give myself one chance to get something right, but I give others two chances; sometimes I even give them three.
Everyone, makes me wanna holler
How come, you asking others for a dollar?
Why beg for a crumb?
Though I don’t always say much, at times I want to be heard.
Maybe if I felt more free, like a bird
Sometimes I feel pressure to please & serve everyone else on Earth
Traversing the brim of ill determination
stuck walking in eternal night
Existing only in those rusted hallows
purely pursued out of spite
Sometimes it's hard to admit that you need to change,
Because your mind is trying to convince you that you need to stay the same.
It's not easy to face the reality and admit that something is not right,
I used to think that it was all about externalities,
Do anything to fit in and don't get mama mad at me,
It didn't matter how I felt only how other people felt about me,
I remember giving a bracelet to one of my babysitter's when I was young. I made it out of my mother's yarn.
Sitting next to my peers,
Who have consistently filled my eyes with tears,
Is a painful exposition into the realm of self-hate.
I’m constantly thinking: “I deserve this, right?”
Here’s my two-weeks notice:
I’m quitting our friendship.
I’ve been killing myself
For your approval
Far too long.
Feel Free to Fail Me
Because my life should be worth more than a letter on a page
Feel Free To Fail Me
Because my name shouldn't be worth more than who I am
My name on a list
My name on a degree
Can it be changed? mended? altered? no.Do i worry? bite? tap?yes.Feel miserable? uninterested? Still?yes.
But why do I do this?But why do I waste my energy being sad, mad, uncomfortable, upset?
That's what it means
To concede to the fear,
To feed the bearer,
To bleed from the wounds,
bestowed on you
from the pain you've taken
even the words you've spoken
to make it all better
Sometimes life isn't fair and sometimes life isn't sweet.
My shiny head makes people stare as I walk alone down the street.
No, you can't touch, don't you dare.
It's a sensitive topic, so I cover up with a sheet.
dear depression you began as a childhood friend who saw the young children teasing me for my skin, my thick hair, and my mother.the woman who left her beautiful country,walk endlessly through the desert with only blessings and prayers.you depressi
Thank you for this life
A life where shadows sing
Where losses are seen as gains
Where I can have a vision for everything
Thank you for this life
A life where notes can speak
I was the shattered glass laying on the floor,
until you swept me up and built me into something more.
I was a hole in the knee of your favorite blue jeans,
and you stitched me up along the seams.
I was the shattered glass laying on the floor,
until you swept me up and built me into something more.
I was a hole in the knee of your favorite blue jeans,
and you stitched me up along the seams.
Next time I look in the mirror, I’m just gonna try to see me
Not some superficial image of who they want me to be.
If my eyes are deep dark brown, that’s what my momma gave me
If my lips are kind of full, well
You are beautiful. Death has covered you in a halo, like a saint.
we are people, not objects or products, not apologies or excusesoften dehumanized and abused, as if we are not your sisters, mothers and daughtersmen have the audacity to mistreat
If I share my mind,
will that be of higher value than my body?
If I share my words,
my thoughts, fears, passions,
will that be of higher value than my kisses,
my hugs, touches, caressing hands?
to the one whom gravity holds tightest to,
you're an aging collection of
thin skin and heavy bones
known by a name
passed through the lips of few
with ribs housing
Back then, first gen,
It was a lot easier when
Mom and dad used to love each other since then
Fights happen, physical actions
Again and again
My words are locked inside of me.
It is rude to talk to oneself in public, so I refrain from doing it.
But...
My tongue is twisting itself, trying to part my lips.
I saw you
Don't pretend like you didn't notice
We made eye contact
You swallowed
I watched your Adam's apple rise and fall
As nervousness formed pools over your pupils
All this education,
and we were never taught to love ourselves.
Our knowledge was, instead, forced to be something else.
Created in classrooms, within white walls.
Who am I?
I still don't know
I've got a lot to learn
And a long way to go
There is so much to do
So much to explore
And one day i'll know
What I came here for
I've been looking
Sometimes when I'm feeling down or blue, all I really need is you. A hug and embrace makes me feel like I have place. Hopeless feelings deep inside, but with you, I'm built back up and restored with pride.
You're the sun rising in the morning,The fresh blanket of dew covering a shivering field of grass,The wind flying through the scene as time washes away just the same,
Words slapped me in the face
With their crimson fury
Without hesitation I let them envelop me
Watering myself in a shower of emotion
She always kept to herself
She stood in her head
Not once did she ever think about
Letting anyone else in
Until he came around
He held out a hand
She had never seen such a gesture
PURPOSE.
WHEN IT DISAPPEARS IT DRIVES YOU INTO WINDING, DARK ROADS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.
THEN SLYLY WHISPERS IN YOUR EAR TO MAKE YOU THINK EVERYTHING IS ALRIGHT.
I-I-I-…, 2013, by Unknown
Pressure in canvas, Sweat on skin
I sat in my classroom for what felt like days
He pours scalding water
over your wounds
boiling you from the outside in.
His words are poison soap
grating off layers of the world
Don't give up, it get's better.
Don't let those eyes get any wetter.
Don't beat yourself up or tear yourself down.
Don't give the world its saddest sound.
Don't let your mind lose itself.
There are others like me,
So many others to this collective "we".
Our stories may vary,
The past are damn well scary.
Some of us have been beaten and abused,
Others are ostracized and accused.
I watched the darkness;
dissolving, morphing, quickly
receding from the fruity light,
as if rejected medicine.
Left behind for an identical,
the gift inside of me
is more valuable, more precious
than golden nugget chunks
found beneath Earth's rocky skin.
it is much more beautiful
than glittering diamond fractals,
reflecting beams of light
Haiku Stories, Volume 1: Undervalued
I can hear their words
They fight loudly, then play nice
This is my family
I can see his face
You're no ordinary girl, you are an extrodinary boy. You're special because you're different.
Don't be afraid to make mistakes. They are each common errors.
Swimming in the anger, drowning in the sin.
Its been so long, how long has it been?
You left abruptly with no trace on your lips,
Of remorse for the pain, and your angry countenance.
Do you ever just
have one of those days where
you wake up and
nothing seems right?
One of those days where
you look down the hall and
someone has turned off the lights?
Who am I? That is the question...
I walk around, in a ghost town, in a world were I feel unheard,
"Nobody is perfect" is what I hear, yet we all strive for perfectiion.
Who Am I...
I am hopes and dreams
The visions of things
That people wish to see
But may never be
Because everyone wants, but no one tries
And with no effort, all hope dies
My mirror of motivation,
Stares back at me daily.
Sometimes it smiles and sometimes it cries,
But within it's glassy walls lives a woman who
Is nothing but a bag of dreams and anxious success.
I put on the cap and the uniform
To please the people that give me money.
I follow their rules with a synthetic smile
To appease the ones I work for.
I complete the caustic piles of work
You know what scares me... a Blank page
It opens up the realm of unspeakable possibility
And the unknowing of what may lie ahead
is the worst of it all
Will I ever experience true creativity
Numbers and sizes
do not
can not define you.
They could never show a beautiful
heart, soul, or mind.
Stretch marks, acne, or birthmarks
can’t show
the type of person you are.
The chocolate skin that I live in has seen torment and pain... with these milk chocolate eyes, like hershey syrup when it rains
Don't look at me with hope.Don’t look at me with the shine of foreveror the gloss of happily ever after’s.Don’t touch me with the ghost of your lipsor the whisper of your fingertips.Not with the gasps
Not selling crack,
but I deal.
No feeling ever again will feel so real.
Keep searching for it,
but in vain,
tryna get the same high as the first time.
Some people call me crazy,
I say I am a dreamer.
Some people say I am cold,
I say I am strong.
They say I have a short temper,
I say I take a stand.
Some people call me conceited,
I approach poetry as a teenager approaching the first date,
as a 12th grader approaching the SATs,
as a spelling bee-er approaching a word she's never known
I write because I am free to DREAM,
I can be no one else but ME,
it helps me to ESCAPE from REALITY.
I am a DEEPER REFLECTION OF ME.
I write what I FEEL,
too afraid to SPEAK UP ON WHAT IS REAL,
By Chanda Bynum
I see this girl
And she is a girl with straightforward eyes and blank expressions.
The Maker has sculpted curvaceous hips and thighs into her gene pool
I am at the crossroadsI see what I can be and what I would have to do.But I am scared, only I can decide what I can do,And if I fail it is only myself to blame.
There are some things about me that I can't change
There are things about me that are just too strange
I've got thoughts in my head I hate giving acknowledgement
I feel like I'm loosing it all
My life has no guarantee
The stress is always tearing me down
And the angst is always getting to me
Deception starts with us
It paints a picture of inadequacy
We are convinced of what we are not
Pertaining to excellence, intelligence, or beauty
The worthlessness we feel
We can’t bear to let others see
I dont know why,
Why I want to cry,
Why my soul wants to die,
Why my hopes and dreams turn into lies.
Can someone please tell me,
Because I feel like I'm not good enough
But what is 'good enough'?
