handkerchiefs and books on the floor

My grandfather told me once that I'm a devils child, that I wasn't even worth it to lick the dirt under his boots. I'm a nobody in his eyes, an unborn child or so he had preferred. By rummaging in the old family albums, I realized something. The plastic smile, the ugly hearts the goddamn egoists. I'm maimed by their ignorance, the inability for them to be a decent human being. The ugly wounds gape at me, the cane of my grandfather banging on my door.

The memories have been haunting me for days, it hurts. They are incredibly far away now, and I have banished them forever but the loss hurts me, knowing that they are not under the ground to rot, knowing that they prefer to deny my existence then to love me, they think I'm a disgusting creature. They don't wanna know who I am.

The remains of the plastic wrappings still burn my skin every day, endless nights, folded hands and praying in my bed. As a small child, every evening. As a small child crying in the corner with blue cheeks, you brought this upon yourself, this is Jesus punishing you, they yell in my ear.

The rending life, I'm poorer than most because my heart doesn't know the meaning of true love. I'm a poor lover, I can't love. I have no love for myself nor for another.

I close my eyes and I see what I don't wanna see. I place my hands around my neck trying to strangle myself, but I give up, my hands aren't strong enough or is it my inner self screaming for air. Secretly, I know that the bullshit of the past just might be a lesson for the future. But they played with my head, they got me maimed. I'm a little damaged.

I can't fix myself, I'm useless. But I'm the most beautiful, ugly, broken and useless thing that you can have in your life. They call it positive thinking, breathing is what I need.

blue cheeks, no thats a lie it was only one cheek!