The reason that I go after people who won’t choose me,

Is due to never choosing myself.

I don’t see the person that others view; I never have.

The failures weigh on me like exhaustion after a day in the sun.

I see the people who said they would never leave 

But they disappeared when I finally pushed them away enough times.

I see the ones who cheered me, supported me, and all the while

I wondered what qualities they observed. What did they see that I didn’t?

I never got past those hours inside an empty bedroom, with four white walls and nothing else.

I hear the words of a close friend, telling me that I am a sad and pathetic man.

I figured out that my existence to so many people I loved was nothing more than a burden.

So I made myself as small as I could, and I never learned to grow to what I wanted to be.

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