A Complicated World
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It guts me. Not sure how to stomach it.
Everything hurts. Everyone hurts.
All is impossibly harsh;
The rejection, loneliness, ideals not being met;
The waiting, self-loathing, longing;
The destruction, dismissal, perverse control.
And although I still hate myself—
I’m truly never good enough and that never goes away—
I feel like everyone and everything let me down,
Like even the good ones aren’t good enough;
Like even if I’m the worst,
I’m still better than everyone else.
This story is part of a collection of poems, short stories and introspective diary entries, called “Grimoire of a Weird Person II”.