I don't fit
Very well
With most people.

I am shy, and sweet.
Strange and terrifying.
Small and delicate.

I am something that
Most people do not know
How to love.

And that's okay.

I don't need their love.

I don't need to fit.

*But, God, do I want to.

I'm tired of letting my high hopes destroy me.

It hurts, but I have to let go sooner or later.

I'm done.

I just wanted you.

That's all.

I wanted your smile,
Your laugh,
Your warmth
And your arms around me.

I just wanted a chance for my heart to glance upon
The galaxies in your eyes.

I wanted to love you,
To show you all that love.

I still want that,
You.

And while I know I have you,
I also know
I might not have all of you.

This is one of the hardest things.

Telling you what's wrong.

About all my insecurities.

And you promise to fix it,
Everytime.

But everytime,
Nothing changes.

You walk on ahead,
With him.
With her.

And I am barely out of the car.

It ***** to tell you I'm hurt.

But biting the bullet and admitting the truth
Is better than letting it fester,
Like the infection it's become

I am not
****
Or hot
Or attractive.

Not in the way other girls are.

My parents used to tell me
That I have the face of an angel,
Which is why I'll never look like the other girls.

I'm not flirty or funny or ****.

Maybe that's why you don't touch me as often.

I don't blame you.

I'm a tear-stained mess.

I'm full of shrapnel and broken glass.
I'm stitched from thorns and vines.
I am not a Goddess
Or anything ethereal.

I am born of the earth and wind,
My compassion is the flowing river,
And my will is a burning inferno,
And I thought it would never go out.

But now,
I am a handful of burning embers.

It's funny
When you're emotionally hurt,
That you can feel your heart
Dropping into your stomach.

She's so much better,
You always smile when she talks to you.

I don't think it's going to become anything,
No.
But it still hurts that I can't make you smile like that.

She's funny and honest, and doesn't know as much as me in the areas I'm well versed in. But she knows about the things you like or know a lot about,
And she's super skinny.

She's much skinnier than me.

So much skinnier.

I'm never eating again.

I've lived my life
In the clutches of hatred.

I'd love to watch parts of the world burn,
But I'm done taking my self-hatred out on
The world
And everyone better than me.

Yeah,
I guess you could say I'm angry.
But I'm angry at myself,
For never being good enough
For anyone.