Someone once told me
that I was everything
anyone could every want
in a person and I know
I’ve told others
the very same utterance of words
in hopes to brighten their mood
but in the grand scheme of reality
they were missing something
and I’m missing something
and while I can see what they’re missing
I can’t see what I’m missing
and no one will tell me;
I ask them with hopes of improvement
and yet they smile and touch my arm
and tell me no, I’m fine, I’m just fine
and I can see the lies—
I want to know
I want to know
why people leave me
and why I wasn’t good enough
and why I stay up at night
crying about the past
while you day by day
begin to forget my name.