I hated me as they must have

I hated me and could not look other people in the eye

I could not tolerate my own reflection in a simple mirror

I knew that they were right to shun me and so I, too, tried to shun myself

I had no friends because I did not want to know those who would want to know me

I hated myself deeply and became, unconsciously, quite self-destructive

I grew bitter and sardonic, caustic and cynical well before my appointed time

I stayed alone just to avoid exposing myself to any normal people

I longed to be simply ordinary and not some monster who frightened children

It was no heroic battle against overwhelming odds

Just a mundane pusy deformation that blew up in my face

I hated me as they must have, as well, and I tried to let them know

If you tried to like me, I would have to hate you because I could not stand myself

I spent far too much time alone and it only made me stranger

I grew so knotted up inside I had to avoid even simple conversations

My face grew long and narrow and I remained always in the shadows

I lashed out in my frustration and, of course, they all just shook their heads

I could not take me seriously and thus I could form no plans

I simply ignored the future since I knew there was no place there for me

I sat depressed in the dark over the foolishness of my loneliness and anger

I peeled my silly mind like a very small onion and found no kernel at its center

I did not speak until questioned, then turned red, mumbled and looked away

I hated me and it showed in my clothes and voice and hair, my walk and expression

I hated having to hate myself because it seemed so petty and stupidly selfish

I hated those who tried to help me because I knew they did it only out of pity

I was devastated by that look of disgusted fear in women’s eyes

It seemed I tried with all my energy to simply disappear

I looked too closely within and was nauseated by what I saw

My future ended just after puberty and was replaced by anxiety and self-doubt

It was no noble struggle, no cross was borne and no hard lessons were won

I knew everything I did could only be unimportant and totally absurd

I lost interest in my constant depression and escaped into works of fiction

But I knew enough to never identify with the heroes, anymore

The best I could hope for was to be simply ignored and quickly forgotten

I saw everything I did through the twisted prism of the way that I looked

I could not feel sorry for myself because I hated that as well

I became quite absorbed by total failure at a very early age

I knew that I was not weak but it was also very obvious that I was worthless

I kept close company with artists, writers and musicians whom I would never meet

I felt sentenced to a foolish and degrading bit part that I was loathe to play

I employed various drugs in constant vain efforts at self-medication

I was shunned and I shunned others and myself in equal measure

I observed myself with disgust and just wanted to crawl away

Everywhere I went in public I heard these voices screaming ‘Freak’, ringing in my ears

I cursed god and bade him strike me down, as I lacked the courage to do so myself

I did what I was told in school without question, comment or objection

I bitterly rejected the sickening role of the unspeakably disgusting to which I was assigned

I hated myself for even fantasizing over ordinary relationships

I laughed harshly at my wasted lust as women fled, revolted by my appearance

I hid stoned within a book as much of the time as I could possibly arrange

I made it so they had to turn over a rock to find me, scuttling away from their light

I grew angry realizing my stupid hopes to be normal could never come true

I hated myself for the hypocrisy of my own continued existence

I was too ugly to live and was too cowardly to simply die, so I just tried to hide

There was never anyone to whom I could reveal my shame and deep despair

I grew defensively contemptuous of the ordinary habits and pleasures that were denied me

I sat alone after midnight as the walls closed in and the carpet weave rolled in waves

I hated myself and truly believed that it was the only correct and proper thing to do