She stared in the mirror and said "you're so ugly" with an expression of deep disgust. What was funny was she was really pretty, but the person standing in front of the mirror overlooked that fact and focused on all the other qualities that she found distasteful.
I don't think I'll make heaven, I'm not that righteous anyway,
I mean.....have done bad deeds and said irreversible words,
That I hide behind Innocent eyes, and the sweet cords,
That holds lies and deceit, as I try to please anyone that comes my way,
I have a confession, a confession I'll have to say,
I have done a bad thing to a person today,
I said she was not pretty, that was not enough,
I belittled her very presence and told her to shut up.
I bullied an eight year old girl, who really can't fight back,
I beat into believing that she nothing but a tool,
Clearly something that guys fancy just for a little while,
Someone that has no meaning,
I told her no one cares about her presence, that she wasn't needed,
That she was no fun, a boring little thing, of no relevance,
She was shy and quiet and I found it sickening, when I know she clearly has something to say,
But I also told her to shut up, because no one wants to listen to what she has to say anyway
Utterly disgusted by how she wants everyone to like her,
Wanting to be the center of attention, just like a superstar,
So she walked on eggshells, not stepping on any toes,
She lost herself while she buddied up with her foes,
I find her unappealing, unable to spare her a glance,
Because looking at her irks me, I just can't give her a chance,
And I forget sometimes that she's just an eight year old trapped in an adult body.
So she's just lost in this wild world, looking for some sort of validation, some sort of acceptance from everybody.
But what this eight year old fails to understand is that this world is like the perfect Ice cream sundae but it's dipped In vinegar, every lick leaves a bitter sweet taste,
I've said a lot of awful things to this little girl and I can't promise I'll stop but I low-key realize that I can't hate her into being better.
Whether she becomes better, whether not,
Like my mother would say "the ball is in your court,
So she has the choice to make,
Stand up and shake the dust or dwell on past mistake.
I'm really sorry,
I know this isn't a sincere apology
More of a somber reflection,
But I hope one day I'll look in the mirror and be happy with what I see.
It's Still Abeegail 💗✨
Trying to love myself
The images are mine
Thank you for reading my poem
