The Messed Up Mind Of Me

fifteen : I don't deserve any of it

I fear myself.

I fear my lack of control over my own hands and mind.

I do things I wouldn't.

Think things I shouldn't.

Cry, because I don't know why I did it.

But nobody sees.

I pull down my sleeves.

I smile just to please.

I fake it all.

But underneath it all.

I am lost and scared, drowning in a sea of thoughts.

It's more than I can take.

I never thought I'd get here.

I never thought I'd be that girl.

I never thought I would become like this.

I never thought that it would be so hard to ask for help.

When I so obviously need it.

I never thought my own family could be so oblivious, that they can't see.

They only see the version of me they want to, the one without the scars, and the demons, and the ugly secrets.

I only see the version I want to sometimes,

I let myself forget that I don't deserve to smile with even a hint of genuineness.

Because I remember.

Who I am.

What I don't deserve.

What I deal with.

Why I struggle.

Why this is all just an act.

Why I can't smile genuinely.

I don't deserve it.

I don't deserve to be happy, it's that simple.

After how I've hurt others.

How I can't seem to stop.

How I can't even act my age and have basic control over myself.

Even the people who care about me most, who yell at me and scold me for not thinking straight.

The people that try to lift me up.

They help, but only for a little bit.

Then I go back to realizing how much I don't deserve people who tell me these things, they're all lies anyway,

But at least they're trying.

I am not pretty, I am not special, and nobody truly cares about my problems.

But I also don't deserve to be cared about.

I deserve to be disowned.

I deserve to be a loner.

I deserve to cry myself to sleep.

I deserve to watch the people I love be happy, while I have nothing.

What did I do to deserve nothing?

Well.

I ignore obvious signs that I should follow.

I lie to everyone around me.

No one knows everything.

I have hurt people just because of my anger for myself.

I have hurt people when they have been nothing but kind to me.

I have been cruel.

I have been awful.

I have been unworthy.

So I deserve to be broken down by someone who should look up to me.

I deserve to be broken and hurt.

I deserve to be left alone to my demon's to feast on.

I deserve to be nothing but wilted leaf floating carelessly in a breeze.

I don't deserve the things I work for.

And I deserve to be called dramatic, even when I'm not being so.

And I deserve for the people I love to walk away when they find the true me.

And I deserve to be called a freak.

Because I have no control over the body I live in.