There is nothing I hate more than being me.
Hating to be Safi, to be a girl to be rude, and have to be ghetto
Hate being popular hate being mean and cruel
Hate acting like I don’t give a **** about some one when they mean the world to me
Hate having to misspell my words like I don’t know common vowels.
Hate looking in the mirror and not recognizing
Who.

I

Am
Lies.
Deceit. Fear.
And melancholy
Why am I never the person I image I was
Why am I not a great…everything.
Why do I wish I was different.
maybe.

maybe.


maybe i was i was different because i was never the real me.

in blackness my only solitude is an ocean of tears and a river of blood.