Do you Mirror My Echo ?

Lost in the maze of Chaos.

Why do I crave attention so?
The need for validation, I cannot let go
I long to be seen, to be heard,
To know that my existence is not absurd.

But when I feel misunderstood,
All I want is to disappear for good,
Why do I choose the path of death,
Of violence, war, and every breath
Filled with anger, that swells and grows,
Like a balloon, that no one knows,
How much it can take, before it pops,
And everything spills out in little drops.

The balloon fills up with tears,
Unspoken words, pain, and fears,
Cuts and bruises, crescent moon prints,
On my palms, anxiety that never quits.

I feel betrayed and heartbroken,
Lost in a world of helium-filled balloons,
While mine is weighed down like a token,
Of my unworthiness, my ugly tunes.

Nobody wants a rock, they want crystals,
Diamonds, and pearls, and pretty utensils,
I am nothing like that, just a stupid rock,
That nobody wants, that everybody mocks.

I am tired of hearing the lies,
That I am not ugly, that there are no goodbyes,
That someone out there is waiting for me,
That I am beautiful in my own way, can't they see?

Nothing can stop me from hating myself,
From caring about what others think,
From wanting to feel okay only when I am validated,
Why am I this way, why do I sink?

Nobody understands how I feel,
I cannot tell them without getting too deep,
They will always say what I want to hear,
But it's not the truth, it's just a veneer.

I want to feel pretty, but I never do,
I hate how I look, I was bullied too,
I am always hurt, I am also a jerk,
I question why others like me, it's hard work.

Most of the time, when someone says they like me,
It's because they want sex, or they're bored, you see,
But I don't do anything about it, because I want to savor,
The little attention I get, even if it's for a small flavor.

I just want someone to love me more,
Than I do myself, maybe then I can soar,
And finally see what they see in me,
And feel happy, and content, and free.

But I am manipulative, sick in the head,
Saying things to people to get more attention, instead,
I never saw love, in my childhood, or youth,
My family was troubled, with no real love and truth.

I am scared, of getting hurt, in the process,
Of being seen as a joke, a game, a mess,
I am too sensitive, anyone can play me,
And I don't know how to fix that, can't they see?