I was so lucky to grow up with people who never made me feel lonely
I was so lucky to grow up knowing that I had a place to escape to in case it was needed
That I had a person to escape to
I was so lucky to say that friendship-wise, my youth was actually pretty damn good because of a handful of girls who loved me in ways that I never really thought I could be loved
I was so lucky that I had people who had seen all my flaws and experienced them first hand and still hadn't left me
I was so lucky that when I acted out, they'd ask why was I doing it before telling me to stop
I don't think I am as lucky anymore
In college with new friends who I love dearly
But I can no longer hide that terribly, horribly flawed girl like I managed to do at first
I am so flawed and even at my best I am heavy with burdens and contradictions and embarrassment
They see that now but they do not ask why
No, they tell me to stop
Which is fair
Because sometimes I hurt them
Which they don't deserve
But I can't help but yearn for the years' worth of understanding that has seeped into the deepest crevices of my bones
The understanding that I took for granted
The understanding that I would kill for now
For I am not alone
But I feel alone
They make me feel alone
They saw these flaws and realized that who I was when they were under control was not worth sticking around for
I am not alone
I am merely surrounded by loneliness that masquerades
that portrays
that crusades
that pervades
as a perfect group of girls
A perfect that isn't me
YOU ARE READING
paradoxical
Poetryyears worth of teenage and young adult angst transferred from a ratty old notebook to this app --for anyone who also feels like everything they do contradicts the personality that they desire to be perceived as
