I Have A Disease

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


An original poem detailing the psychological effects of unattractiveness.

Submitted: September 03, 2018

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Submitted: September 03, 2018

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I have this disease called unattractiveness;
it is a cancer, a malignant growth, a contamination within my living soul
projecting the severe symptoms outwards whenever I observe myself through the rectangular-shaped slab of reflective glass in the hallway.
It affects all of their selected victims differently, mine being the crooked eyes upon my face,
the boils spread across my pepperoni mask, my enormous ears to completely embrace
all the vocal blasphemy propelled directly on my radar,
continually reminding me how considerably sophisticated they all are,
compared to me.

It is the deepest, exceedingly darkest place that one can take a solo trip, alone,
a solitary journey filled with absolutely nothing minus the struggles and the groans.
Each and every day is a new battle against the very identical foe,
but the enemy strikes back with their heavy psychological blows; seeming a boxing champion.
Unattractiveness seems to cherish creeping up upon you in your most vulnerable state,
especially when not a soul seems to be around you, who could falsify to relate.
The thoughts in your mind begin to swirl and begin to swell,
which drag you unwillingly by your ankles, into your very own personal hell.
With the figments and entities from your mind and your past
serving as the unbearable pain from which your mind isn't capable of outlasting a second time.
Finally, at the end of the day, sleep always comes as a welcomed friend, never judging for a second,
but in the morning, the ceaseless battle begins yet again.


© Copyright 2018 Andrew Patterson. All rights reserved.

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