pathetic...

Pathetic. It's comparing myself to others, as if my value were weight, As if the scales of life were always tilted To the side where I'm not. Pathetic. It's looking in the mirror and not recognizing The face that should be my friend, But now it's just a distant reflection, Of a self that I never managed to reach. Pathetic. It's destroying me with sharp words, That slide from my mind to the sheet As if pain were art, And art, redemption. Cruel. It's me, for keeping you here, In this maze of shadows that I created, Where every verse is a knife Cutting my own flesh. Cruel. That's what I write about myself, As if every word were immutable truth, And poetry, my sentence. But still, I carry on, Because deep down, between the cracks, Maybe there's a glow, A thin thread of hope, That makes me believe That this pain is also part Who I am. 𝒜𝓈𝓈:𝕾𝖔𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘