Loathe with an E.

Loath and Loathe is different.

Of course we all know that. Be damned if you don’t, search it up. It could very well save a life you know.



i loathe myself.

There! I said it! I said it so easily and casually, it hurts. Being online and hiding behind a keyboard makes everything easier.

I despise despise despise despise myself.

I could never say that in real life. Not without sounding like a whiny bitch.

I feel so horribly constricted. Restrained. Tied up.

There isn’t a single fraction of a second that passes when I don’t feel like clawing myself out. My insides are on fire, my insides hate being my insides.

I can feel my heart yelling.

It hurts. It really hurts but what can you do when you can’t even stand being yourself? The very thought of being you disgusts you to no end? The idea that you are You repels you?

Me, being Me. The ever thoughtful, ever caring and selfless Me, taking in people’s pain. Take them in, I say. They need help, they shouldn’t feel this way. Take them in. Give them that piece they lack. Give them security, love, assurance. Take them in.

Take them in.

When they speak I can feel my mind scape cracking. Tiny, miniscule cracks. It hurts physically, yes. But that’s okay. It really is.

Take them in.

and Give.

How much can I give?

Every second I’m losing myself. No one is giving anything to me. As selfish and whiny as I may sound, it hurts. It hurts to know you have no one.

The one you call a best friend? She has no time for you, and above all, she doesn’t understand.

That’s okay.

The one who says tell me your problems? All he talks about are his own problems, all he cares about. He too, doesn’t understand.

That’s okay.

The one you wanted to tell so bad? He doesn’t care. He takes and takes and takes.

That’s okay.

The one you thought would be there for you in your toughest, rock-bottom times? She doesn’t care, she doesn’t understand, she doesn’t seek to understand.

That’s okay.

I’m alone.

I’m alone in this world and it’s so scary.

Imagine being a tiny star in the never-ending space.

All alone, all detached.

No one to hold to.

It hurts so much.

To be a bottle full yet so empty.

I can feel my exterior threatening to break out.

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

And I’m doing this to myself.

The one I call best friend? The one who tells me to share my problems? The one I want to tell? The one whom I thought would be there for me?

I am the one pushing them away.


The ever thoughtful, selfless, caring Me.

My trust issues run so deep, so Impossibly deep, that I’m pushing away those dear to me.

They tell me “trust.”

How could I?

I’m scared.

I’m scared of getting hurt, I’m scared of hurting.

I am a bottle full after all.

If only I trust.

If only I…

I’m just so tired of myself.

“loathe” “despise” “hate”

it’s terrible to hate oneself.

I know it is but how could I not?

How could I not?

(if you DO indeed know someone who seems to be a hell of a full bottle, please do NOT hesitate to talk to him/her. sometimes, we just need someone to care, someone to ask. Save Lives.)


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