Fuck

I can't say that this time was any different.
I knew deep down and even in the hollow parts of my skin, that this time
... It would be the same.
Because guys like him,
they don't date girls like me.
The lows of my esteem always give me away.
Theres something  about my heart that seems to only like resting on my sleeve.
Mom,
I'm tired of only being good for lying with my back against wrinkled sheets,
And half the time Im not even given that luxury.
Fuck.
But my puesdo-confidence isn't strong enough to cover the scent of my bullshit.
Mom,
You told me I was worth more than this.
Were you only being a mother or were there truths in your wisdoms?
Jesus Christ!
Its not supposed to be this hard.
Not to be loved.
Not when I'm standing in the middle of the field with my palms facing forward,
and my pockets empty.
Maybe thats the problem.
Fuck.