Dear You...

Dear You,

You’re lost again, aren’t you?

You’re searching for a purpose you haven’t been able to find.

The point behind the hustle and bustle of everyday life is still unfound for you.

You don’t understand why you can’t seem to be happy.

You try to be the bubbly person everyone loves.

You always end up back in the darkness where you began.

What the hell is wrong with you?

You can’t talk to anyone without second guessing.

It keeps you up at night.

You think it’s your fault.

You’re right.

No one will love you.

You annoy them.  

They’re too good for you.

You don’t deserve them.

They hate you.

You’re unlovable.

If only you knew your brain was lying to you.

You’re ugly.

You hate yourself.

You should.

No one will love someone who looks like you.

You’re too fat.

Maybe if you were taller, you wouldn’t look as chubby.

The way your stomach looks in low rise jeans.

The way your ass looks in everything.

It’s not attractive.

You eat more than you should to try to fill the emptiness dwelling within.

You can never fill the void.

Your appearance is ugly.

Your depression is hideous.

If only you knew your brain is lying to you.

He tells you that you mean everything to him.

He says you’re beautiful.

He reassures you every time without fail.

He’s lying.

He pities you.

You never should have told him about it.

He only likes you because you’re desperate.

He must be desperate.

Because who could ever love you?

He’s going to leave because you’re so pathetic.

You’re not worth the effort.

He’s too good for you.

You’ll never let him love.

You don’t deserve it.

If only you knew your brain is still lying to you.

If only you knew that you are me.

Love, 

Yourself