Pretty Sorry Flower

Daily prompt:Childhood Revisited

I once knew a happy young girl,

A pretty flower,

Who’s now a used and sorry flower,

Who thinks of only thing

“Everyone hates me”,

And goes to bed with tears in her eyes.

Only her pillow knows what she really feels inside.

© Dys & Dash


My Life Right Now

My life is rocky. I feel like I haven’t been living my life the way I want or the way I should. I don’t look out for myself as I had hoped to nor am I my best support.

I criticize myself on anything and everything. Sometimes I wonder where I come from for me to be like this. Every time I look in the mirror, I’m disgusted with what I see, because it’s not what I want. I try to form a smile but it quickly turns into a frown.

When no one watches me, I become me. When I’m alone, I think of how I survived the day with a fake smile and compressed emotions. I don’t hate anybody but I hate myself. This no-good for nothing who can’t seem to make anything right. Who can’t be pretty, who always have to hide beneath multiple personalities.

Sometimes I believe things will turn around but it always seem to just remain my imaginations. Sometimes I look at him and I wonder why he still stays and smile at me. Sometimes I wonder why I don’t feel to myself, the way others feel about me. My friends and family seem to adore me, I can see it in their eyes and expression. 

I don’t know how to tell them that I don’t like waking up everyday, that I don’t like my face, that I don’t believe in myself, that I hurt myself a times, attempted and contemplating suicide atimes, that I cry for no reason, that I can’t forget my trauma, that I can’t still shake the feeling that everyone hates me, that I exercise and diet not because I think it’s healthy but because I’m obsessed with the perfect body and many other things hidden in me.

It’s tiring but I can’t help it. I don’t understand it myself. It’s odd that I am my own arch enemy. I used to think it was a phase and as I got older, it’ll go away. But the more I grow older, the more worse I become, the more despaired, depressed and demented I become.

I’m trying but I’ve no idea where to turn to. I’m just exhausted physically and emotionally. But I won’t give up, if not for myself but for the people whose eyes beam when they see me, who annoy me sometimes but are there for me even when I don’t say it or even if they don’t know what’s going on. I believe it’ll get better, I’ll get better, hopefully, some day.

Dys x