The Deranged Thoughts Of A Girl

Sometimes I know life is hard to make sense of,  Like how you show anger to the person who Taught you what being angry is,  Like how you are made insecure by someone who Compliments every single stranger,  Like how you beg for love to the one person who Refuses to believe that you are capable of being loved.  It's funny when you return to them angry, insecure, and unloved,  They hold your face in their hands and ask you "Who hurt you, my darling girl?" And you laugh, so, so loud,  Loud enough for the walls to echo "You!",  Only to be silenced by the tears that follow.  Sometimes I know life makes no sense,  Now, I take my place in this world so arrogantly because There's no way the anger I witnessed was just to damage me.  Now, I compliment people for how they make one feel,  Because I refuse to believe that mirrors are synonyms for value in humans.  Now, I speak of the love I experience to everyone I meet,  And make them ...

I wouldn't be ashamed of my collections one day, Of how every narration of my story has a tinge of hate.  I wouldn't talk to you about the days I cried to sleep,  Or how I don't remember being a child.  I wouldn't wish for people to understand me When I have mastered the art of misunderstanding them. I would be proud of my collections one day,  Because I know love always crashes my hate parties,  I would talk to you about I stay vulnerable despite being hurt,  Because I know the universe has always given me back what I lost,  I would stay with the people who are curious As they sit beside me to listen to what I collected today. 

 I feel old and lost at the same time,  I see people living their dreams So sure of what they want.  And I feel myself searching frantically To find a meaning I have never pondered about before.  I feel weak and strong at the same time,  I find people trying to navigate themselves So sure of what hurts and what shouldn't.  And I find myself panicking because Everything hurts even when they call me strong.  I feel trapped and free at the same time,  I watch people fly, sing, and dance So sure of how to enjoy their freedom.  And I find myself suffocated Stepping out of a cage not knowing where to go.  Here I stay, old and lost, weak and strong,  Trapped and free,  Searching and finding new revelations about myself,  Knowing that no matter how uncomfortable it gets,  I still get to write my own story.