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Poetry: Self esteem

by Latrevia Chatman

Created on: February 17, 2009

My hands are very dirty and I can't get them clean. I'm scrubbing and scrubbing, but my nails are still unclean.

The soap is full of blood, and the stains are beginning to set. How in the hell, did I get myself into this mess!

My mind is racing fast, and I'm asking myself when did this begin? When was I not able to see how this would all end?

How did I get so blind, when it was all plain to see, take care of yourself, and then I'll allow you to take care of me.

I got caught up in complete self pity, and was just wallowing in it freely. But it's not the first time I've killed my self esteem.

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