i am just a thing
Everything is disgusting.
I hate my stomach, my hair, my crooked teeth, the way my lungs deflate, the sounds from my body.
Every little thing about me is like a grotesque creature that is stuck on my skin and bones.
I am nothing but a thing. I am not human or even a creature. I am just a thing.
I live in a bottomless pit of self-hatred. There are no walls, no ground, and no sky.
I feel as though I will never be able to reach out and grab anything.
I have gotten close to things, but I turn around and run as soon as I feel its warmth.
Although sometimes it's not warmth but disgust as it gets a better look at me in the dim light.
I am scared of being in this deep dark nothingness until the day I rot beyond recognition.
There will be nothing for me to return to when I rot.
Mother earth will not yearn for me.
Animals will not feast upon my unsightly flesh.
Instead, I will rot.
Nothing to absorb me.
I was not made for a purpose.
No purpose will be able to find me.
I'm not sure if anyone will ever be able to find me.