I guess I must be
A criminal
Because I
Am a prisoner
And people hurt
For a reason
As far as
Reasons go
I don't have many
Just a bucket
Full of guilty
Misbeliefs
All the lies
That I tell
To the me
In the mirror
I know I'm
No good
But god I'm
Just a little girl
Only fifteen
Aren't I allowed
To think
I'm pretty
Can't I believe
That someone
Might love me
What happened
To twirling my
Fingers in
My curled hair
Because they
All say to
Trust my intuition
But intuition's
A *****
And she says
Everything
I don't want
To hear
That is my
Heartbreak
Reality
My saddest
Totality

I am not
Pretty
I am not
Witty
I am not
Smart
I am not
Creative
I am not
Loving
Nor am I
Loved
I am not
Perfect
I am not
Enough