Where is My White Flag?

Jan 19. .Sunny.

I am my own enemy.

Looking into the mirror, flaws crawl out to the view of my iris. Mocking me.

Cuts, stitches, alterations...

Nothing fits.

What is there for me to offer? There is always someone with a brighter mind. A brighter smile. A brighter future...

"Why do you always bend your back when you walk? Such bad posture. Looks like you don't have any confidence."

"...I don't have any confidence."

"Why?"

What is there to boast about, when all I ever seem to possess are imperfection after imperfection after imperfection...

My parents always say that they are proud of me. Having a daughter that is willing to strive for her own future. Without a push. Without a shove. No strain, no pull. But it feels like I've been dragging myself to death. Expectations only rise, disappointment only falls. The stronger I desire to be, the weaker I am. It's all backwards. Twisted. Running for so long, I can't even remember where my destination was; the beginning of this journey. Where the red flag was waiting for me to capture into my desperate hands. My eyes are blurred. Words are slurred. Legs bending back and forth, uncontrollable. I want to release my grasp. I want to wave my white flag. But my feet are fixed onto the cement. Torturing me.

I'm my own killer.