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to me,

I loved myself once,
before society told me it was wrong to love myself if I didn't fit the mold they made, and lived up to their criteria.

I loved myself once.
because back then, my worth was beyond my weight, much more than my grades, and I was much more than my bitten finger beds and more than the bags under my eyes.

I remember how proud I was, how happy and comfortable I was in my own skin,
but now those bones are too stiff, I can't get them to move without aching me, I became a prisoner in my own corpse.

I'm a guilty criminal, my deadly crimes were wrong first impressions.
and as it seems, those felonies are never forgiven,
never forgotten.
no matter how charity and community service I'd do, they're just not enough, to make them overlook my faults.

I loved myself once,
before I started over-thinking every move I make, and every word I say, and every friendly approach I offer.
I loved my spontaneous actions, I loved having the green card to talk about what I'm interested in, or doing what makes me happy.
but I lost it, more accurately, I was stripped from these rights.
this green card was taken and burned into ashes right before my eyes.

and I was left with nothing but self-loathing and self-consciousness and maybes and what ifs

I could no longer speak to anyone without feeling judged.
and it's so suffocating, so wrong, to feel like this.

it's gonna take me some time to heal from all the pressing into molds I didn't fit to,
my broken bones will need time,
and I'm willing to give it,
until I learn how to love myself again.