Everywhere I've thought I belonged,
I feel like they would replace me if they could.

Maybe it's because I'm too loud, too controlling, too much—
annoying when I should be silent, unaware when I should step back.
Maybe I just don't fit the way I think I do.

Now I'm just waiting,
waiting for someone I've cared about or helped to tell me
I'm needed, wanted, more than a foolish waste of space,
that I'd be missed if I were gone,
gone forever.

But for now, I can't help but believe
the world would be better without me.