Self Hate

I hate my body, she said, 

And my heart sank

Because clearly she didn’t think I did a good job creating her 

She began to pull chunks of flesh that I had so intricately formed 

She pointed at spots that I had used to punctuate her perfect skin 


I hate my body, he said 

As he used his skin as a canvass for artwork 

Soon enough it was hard to tell his skin tone 

As all I could see were tattoos carved on the skin I had taken so much time to form 


I hate my body she said 

As she cut herself up 

Absorbing all the drugs she could 

Just to take her mind off her hurt and insecurities 


I hate how I look! He yelled 

Abusing substance more than one could imagine 

Getting so high 

Surely he was about to fall 


Why did you make me? 

She sobbed while standing on the bridge 

Ready to disappear in the waters 

At least one less ugly duckling 

Would make the world a better place 

Or so she thought 


It grieved me that they couldn’t see 

What I saw 

So short-sighted, 

They needed glasses to see 

How I made their skins  

So unique,  

The sun couldn’t scar it 

The cold winter couldn’t mar it 


Who told you that you were ugly? 

Better yet, 

Who can make a better you? 

Please raise your hands!

Let’s enter a contest and see who wins 


Just because you create little Barbie dolls 

Doesn’t mean you make the perfect body 

Oh please! Humour me by creating man!  

Who said stitching yourself all over would make you beautiful? 

I look down and wonder where my daughter is 


Do you think for a moment 

That I lied when I said you were good? 

Good enough, 

I had to rest from making you 


Who made the birds? 

Do you think for a moment 

That I who made those beautiful creatures 

Would not also make you more beautiful? 


I crafted you with my hands 

I knew you before you were conceived 

Please don’t believe the lies that you were a mistake 

You were ordained from the start 

Check the master plan if you doubt 


I made you unique 

One of a kind 

Custom designed  

If you doubt, check who matches your fingerprints 


Why grieve me? 

Why make me sad? 

My dear one 

Don’t believe the lies 

Don’t hurt yourself 

Because you’re hurting me in the process 


I still love you.

-From Your Father

  ©Mfon Etuk, 2016