Hatred

They say it is normal to dislike some parts of yourself, but i find there are fewer parts of me that i like than those i hate.
I hate the flesh that sags where other’s is taut.
I hate the nose that hangs too close to my lips.
I hate my flighty mind and my heavy heart,
the tears that come far too easily but few and far between.
I hate the fact that I have so many definite thoughts
but not enough concrete actions.
I hate my impulsiveness,
I hate my cellulite,
I hate my lack of faith,
I hate my ability to lie to those I love.
I hate. I hate. I hate.
But at least I feel something, and isn’t that better than nothing at all?