Grotesque

What I see when I look in the mirror
varies day to day.

Sometimes I see beauty,
sometimes I see decay.

I wish I could love myself
like I once loved myself,

And like some other people
love me.

But who am I?

All I see is this grotesque being
growing out of something

That once was blooming
and beautiful.

The younger years are gone,

and the years ahead…

They are taking control.

Aging is inevitable,
and I accept that,

I do it with grace.

But it's the pain in every place
that drags me down

and makes me feel
like I am ugly

inside and out.

And without a doubt,

this feeling of hatred toward myself
engulfs my soul,

helping to make me feel dark,

alone,

and unwhole.

But who else thinks I'm grotesque?

Does anyone else see
what a mess my life has become?

How broken

and undone

I am?

No matter how I try to fix things,

they always seem to keep getting

worse

and worse.

Sometimes I wonder

if it's a curse,

and who placed this curse upon my head,

so that I can break it

and move on instead

to something more joyful

than this hideous existence.