I was not supposed to be loved or liked.
Memories of hateful words as punishment for wrong doings became a mirror for my mistakes.
My behaviour  - over emphasized -  pushed me to the streets.
Validation sought after.
The need to be accepted; Understood.
A rebellious child born from the stubborn demon;
Having friendship, love, companionship with ugly looking figures.
The sort that made sense.
My type then!
Bringing comfort stemmed from booze.
Day in and out.
Night after night.
An ugly life, surrounded by never ending dramatic...