After wiping the sleep from my eyes I stumble into the shower. With the night washed off my skin and slowly going down the drain it’s going to be all right. But my reflection in the mirror shakes its head. Hurriedly I put on yesterday’s clothes.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
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