sometimes i spit these words in anger
like a fighter spitting blood and broken teeth
and they flicker like the flame of my lighter
when i indulge in the vice that's slowly killing me
but tonight my words fall softer
like the way the blood drips off the fingers of a slit wrist
my emotions and tears bleeding out of me beyond my control
while i try to act unbothered that i know that i'm not missed
even as i sit here with tears clogging my throat
and pain clawing in my lungs
from the times i've screamed
"someone,

please,

tell me why...

why i'm always the one who's left alone
and i'm always the one unwanted
why i am always there for everyone
but perpetually alone when i'm hurting
why i try so hard and come so close but they tell me "sorry, kiddo, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades" and i know that because for ****'s sake i'm not stupid but i still have hope and i was hoping
maybe
this time
it would be different"

... but it's never different, is it?
just the same **** on a different day
and as i drag myself through the mud and barbed wire of the obstacle course of social interaction
i put on the mask that will serve as a detraction, a distraction from what lies beneath