I don’t like myself (poem)

When someone says they love me
i wonder – god, what’s wrong with them?
something must be, for someone to like me
they can’t possibly be operating with a full deck

I’ve never liked my body, my voice –
well, that’s okay I guess
it’s deep enough to pass for straight
if it weren’t for the hard S on the end hissing
my truth clipped in northern exposure

My mind is as a shattered glass door
painstakingly super-glued back in place
the wind whistles through the cracks and missing pieces
and everything beyond is distorted, surreal, and as
jagged as my tongue

My emotions, God, where do I even start?
If I said, “Is like herding cats.’ would you understand?
Its like many people in a room all talking at once
overwhelmingly present, often unpleasant
and hushes only when someone gets behind the mic to speak

I drink down everything everyone says to me
i roll it over my tongue to try and understand
if they’re right – for I am not sure
and it takes me awhile to run it through the library
of insults and things said about me
with each new one, the methodical search begins anew

Its so bad – I’ll tell you – my image of self
and tho I’ve been married almost four years now
sometimes I wonder if my husband really loves me
or if he stays because people who don’t like themselves
are often amazing in bed.