over and over,
again and again
i’m misunderstood
and it’s hard
because
the repetition
makes it easy
for me
to believe
that something
is very wrong
with me
maybe god crossed the wires
maybe i’ve got bad genes
maybe i’ll never amount
to anything
of value
to anyone
maybe,
i don’t matter . . .
the thoughts hurt
they cut
and sever
my ability
to accept myself
as i am
i hope
someday
i’ll find
the strength
to rewire my brain
to produce thoughts
strong enough
to save me
from a lifetime
of being
misunderstood
i’m fragile
easily broken
by scowls and frowns
and the sharp edges
of voices
belonging
to people
that i love
they don’t know
their harsh expressions
and pointed words
are weapons
that shatter me
on the inside
the broken pieces
hurt and fester
in the darkness
within me
so, i’ve hidden them away
where no one can see
and now
i’m left alone
a fragile child
in an adult body
with a pile
of shards
to sort out
by myself
i don’t know
where to begin
i don’t know
how to put myself
back together
because
i don’t remember
what wholeness
feels like
so, i sit here
overwhelmed
and curse myself
for being fragile
