angsty poems i wrote like two years ago

not good enough

I can hear their voices

They're so disappointed

Whispering Whispering

Crawling through my ears

They lie in my face

I can't ever make them happy

The idea is fun, but when it really happens

Disaster disaster

Even if I did something wrong

They still tell me I'm perfect, but the backhanded compliments tell me I don't deserve it

If I speak it only matters if it's relevant to them

It's a problem I can't deal with anymore

I haven't told told you, because you don't deserve to know