self-loathing?

i loathe the sounds of my own voice—
the talking in my head
just the way the thoughts build up,
the way they form & bend

i loathe the beatings of my heart—
a shallow torrent of devastation & tears
i loathe the way that i can't feel
enough to conquer petty fears

i loathe the way my face looks
looking back at me
...just the way my eyes can't find
the riddle or the rhyme

i loathe the way i feel inside—
a constant, crashing tide
just a vacant waif of coal
where once must have been a soul