Insecurities

I don’t have the pretty face,
A defined body nor a shape.
Im a mess and i tend to hate,
my own self for goodness sake.

Its not healthy i do this,
quite often, on daily.
Someday i wish i could stop,
the hate i give to my body

she is way better than me,
a better face, a better teeth.
She has such a perfect day,
a perfect life, a perfect teen.

What do i need to be like her?
How much of surgeries?
Believe me i’ll have the money,
just as long i can be a barbie

what do i need to do, to have my life like she does?
what do i need to do, i’ll shed a skin if it’s a must.
all i wanted was a perfect life, be a perfect wife.
but all i got is an ugly face with an ugly shape.

take a look at her legs,
thin as how the toothpicks were made.
take a look at her skin,
far better than what i see.

she has the ideal weight,
the ideal hight, the ideal “fine”
all the boys run after her,
as i sit down by the curb.

so i guess, forever i will be stuck with these things in my life.
Forever it may seem, for me to have these ugly thighs.
Forever it may seem, for me to endure this pain.
But at least I’m okay.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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