Hi, I'm an insecure poet
Just like I don't like myself
I don't like my poetry
I don't know but sometimes
My poems aren't just it
They are unclear and weird
Like my personality is
They're short and stout
Just like I look physically
They sometimes rhyme too much
Like I overdue too much
Sometimes the free verses
Seem like the amateur I am
And everything's clichéd
Like my creativity got ******
They're hairy and dark
And ugly and scarred
But most of the time
They're just all over
All over excellence
Just like my neighbour
Is all over men
And I try too hard
I get all over it
But when I let go
No matter that I'm fat
The breeze carries me forth
No matter that I'm dark
I shine
And my creativity
Crawls out of crevices  
To create poetry
That warms the soul

Oh gosh, this **** is killing me
I hate the way I am
I am hateful and so ******* jealous
But also I am kind, amicable, sweet and all those
stupids things.

I am not good for this things
or for write what I feel
But here I am
Writing in this ******* ****.

Ha! Like if I like doing this
This is not my thing
Usually, I don’t express myself and I keep it
all for me

I don’t like to share them
I think that I am just catching attention
So I better shut up.
To be honest, I am more hateful than amicable.

I feel like I am just a decoration
When someone needs me, they come to me
But when they don’t, they left me
And I am getting used to.

But u wanna know one thing?
I think I am happy
Yes, Happy
Because I know that this is my life and that
I will never have someone always by my side.

The fire danced
in her eyes
again
as she
wiped the tears.