It hurts,
it hurts so,
so much
knowing
that I'm
not the kind of girl
people right songs about
or think about,
care about
or fall for..
Cause I'm too noisy
but also too quiet.
cause I'm not gentle
and not that kind
and I'm not gorgeous
or amazingly talented
and smart.

Will I ever find love..?

A line I hear a lot of times.
My life—
bitter memoirs,
disappointments,
mental scars,
and feeling miserable
most of my
lonely moments.
Opened my emotions
only to feel vulnerable,
exposed to the
broken cold.

These past few days—
I hate them.
I ache in pain,
I cut myself—
my wounds on
my right arm
have no mouth
but scream for help.

Only to be sent away,
to hear them say,
“It’s not a punishment.”
A line that cuts deeper
than a sharp knife.

And yet I feel
so abandoned
in my own
treatment center.