I am unlovable and I am fully aware.
I can be apathetic, rude, and careless.
I am not the best that there is in this world.
I am not who you want me to be.
I am scarred. Lonely most of the time.
I smile but it does not really reach my eyes.
I laugh but all there is to it is a hollow soul.
Empty.
Trivial.
A speck of dust.
That’s all it is to me.
You can try to reach out to me but like a toxin, I will just hurt you.
I am afraid I’d only confuse you and let your emotions go haywire.
I am not the best for you.
I am a mess.
I am broken.
I am despicable.
I am unworthy.
I am selfish.
I am a work in progress.
…but I am working hard on getting better
I’m working hard to make me be at least a little lovable.
I’m trying to be considerate, to try to take your perspective when you tell me your story.
I’m trying to give you the best listening ears.
I’m trying to choose my words and speak kindly.
I’m trying to patch up all of my wounds so I am no longer hurt.
That way, I won’t hurt you too.
That way, you’d see me as someone significant no matter how irrelevant I feel like I am.
I am working on my progress.
