i know that something is wrong with me, i've known that for a while
i'm stupid, rude, arrogant and bitchy
and no matter how hard i try, i won't ever be good enough
but shouldn't you try to understand too?
i'm only a child after all
but you cannot let me find solace,
why do you love seeing me miserable?
what did i ever do to you that was so wrong?
i'm trying to get my shit together,
to pretend as if everything is fine when it's not
and when that takes its toll,
i ask myself what is it that i'm trying to stay put together for?
i want to crumble down, shatter and fall apart into a million pieces
and never have anyone, or even me try to piece me together again
but i know that i'll get up again, because i always do
and try to repair the fragments of my broken self as best as possible
YOU ARE READING
secrets from the lair
Puisian anthology of bad poetry, but who cares [the lowercase letters all throughout are intentional, they're not grammatical errors]