I Will Never Know Why You Don’t Love Me.

My story does not start the way most do. I was found in the chaos of no one's heart, it could have been my own.

Why do I have to mother myself?

Am I unworthy of love? To be cared for and admired? Am I not my own being?

I am slowly but surely finding a footing in my disorganized mind.

People claim to know the truth, yet I sit on my own while everyone says she is the best. How could I live in both worlds?

Do I protect an image or my sanity?

I guess it will never be as clear as one hopes. My writing is an empty void of emotional torment. My mind fights the idea that I am unworthy of anything good. Fear takes over every time someone compliments me. Would this be different if she were not here? If she never got into my mind?

People say to forgive, I have but I will not forget. To forget would be abandoning the lesson.

Maybe this is not the most beautiful poem or thought; no one said it had to be.

I will continue to live with no expectation of the woman who was supposed to be there for me, no expectations of the ones who claim to see. But all they see are the fake smiles and “loving hugs”.