Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Beast of Burden
To be loved, no.
It hurts,
To have nothing.
To have never
In your hands
And a universe
Melting you down.
To be loved,
I cannot.
I will always be
A friend,
A buddy,
The designated ugly chick
In a crowd of beauty.
I am a weak
Black hole of a being.
I am hollow.
There is nothing inside.
I will shatter
So easily.
It is so hard to
Be absent.
Have you ever felt this way?
All that you desire,
Burned to the ground
By your own hands.
Even you know it's silly
To want something you
Have no chance of getting.
Even you know your dreams are useless.
To think that
Someone could fall
In love
With you is ridiculous.
You were born to be
A beast of burden.
There were no stars
In your sky
When you were born,
Hence, there is no love
In your future.
But I wanted to feel
Special,
In a way not
Associated with disorders;
Special, like, unique, one-of-a-kind,
Best-thing-that-ever-happened-to-me,
That kind of special.
It is odd,
To know these tears
Were not made by
A suicidal moment.
I will never know love,
And it would have been fine, if...
But then again...
Whatever.
Everyone can have
Their romances.
My skin will
Continue to tingle
With the sting
Of loneliness.
Apparently, love is not for everyone.
10-29-08
It hurts,
To have nothing.
To have never
In your hands
And a universe
Melting you down.
To be loved,
I cannot.
I will always be
A friend,
A buddy,
The designated ugly chick
In a crowd of beauty.
I am a weak
Black hole of a being.
I am hollow.
There is nothing inside.
I will shatter
So easily.
It is so hard to
Be absent.
Have you ever felt this way?
All that you desire,
Burned to the ground
By your own hands.
Even you know it's silly
To want something you
Have no chance of getting.
Even you know your dreams are useless.
To think that
Someone could fall
In love
With you is ridiculous.
You were born to be
A beast of burden.
There were no stars
In your sky
When you were born,
Hence, there is no love
In your future.
But I wanted to feel
Special,
In a way not
Associated with disorders;
Special, like, unique, one-of-a-kind,
Best-thing-that-ever-happened-to-me,
That kind of special.
It is odd,
To know these tears
Were not made by
A suicidal moment.
I will never know love,
And it would have been fine, if...
But then again...
Whatever.
Everyone can have
Their romances.
My skin will
Continue to tingle
With the sting
Of loneliness.
Apparently, love is not for everyone.
10-29-08
Comment On This Poem ---
Beast of Burden
Beast of Burden