I'm alone.
I have no one.
And no one has me.
Mainly because no one wants me.
No one wants my baggage,
My abandonment issues,
My mental illnesses,
My broken heart,
My need for constant love,
My need for constant attention,
My pathetic excuse for a personality,
My pitiful mannerisms,
My self loathing,
My need for a new home.
No one wants that.
I'm not good enough.
I've tried so hard,
Walked so many miles,
Seen so many therapists,
Taken so many pills,
Exhausted every option.
I just need care.
But until I'm able to heal from things I can't without someone to help,
No one will help.
Isn't that pathetic?
So I just sit,
Alone,
Knees clutched to my chest,
Sobbing,
Trying to forget the pain
That losing one person caused me,
And trying to convince myself
"I'm fine"
When clearly,
I will never be fine.