People ask me why I'm still single. They know, as well as me, that the reason is I'm ugly.

People tell me I am sexy, I just wish I felt it.

She comes to me in my dreams at night. She always promises me death. She never delivers, Im tired of waiting. I may have to start without her.

Sometimes I wish I would die early so I could be remembered for what I could have been instead of what I failed to be. Im dissappointing.

I have hundreds secrets. Even I don't want to hear what they are.