I have spent
far too much of my life
worrying about why
you wouldn’t love me
the way I
deserved to be loved.
So what if I was selfish?
Children are.
So what if I was needy?
I was taught to be.
So what if I didn’t know
what I wanted out of life?
I still don’t.
I’m tired of believing
all the lies.
I’ve been forcefed them so much
I’m fat on falsehood,
and sick on my own pain.
Leave me out
of your self destruction.
Leave me out
of the misery.
I’m going to fly
free of this place,
even if it just means jumping.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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