Secret

My mind eats at my heart,
taking another chunk with every thought.
I question:
myself, my life, my choices.
Is it really all my fault?

Lonely in groups; I feel ignored, in the background,
the third wheel forcing myself to have fun
I hate this hate…the jealousy eats me alive.
Always I think: It’s not fair.
Still, I am the perpetual “friend.”

Life is what you make it—
at least that’s what they say.
I think I understand,
but I don’t, and the thoughts return:
Why him? Why her? Why not me?

I sit alone, trapped in my mind:
Am I defective? Am I the one to blame?
But I’m just me, what did I do wrong?
I hate the pain in my chest—physical heartache.
I want to feel wanted, loved, accepted.

Tears come, and I feel helpless.
I’m told, “You’re not the only one.”
Bullshit, I’m the only one that counts.
I deal with this silent agony—I have nobody.
They don’t know my pain, it’s mine alone.

I put on a fake smile, congratulate those around me,
I don’t burden them with my pain—they don’t care.
It’s always the same response anyway: “One day.”
Fuck “one day”…I’m so tired of living in the future.
Why should I have to play the waiting game?

I share my pain with no one,
secretly hoping my “one day” will come and things will change.
I want to be touched,
I want loving arms to hold me and tell me everything will be ok,
even if it is a lie.

Always exhausted from the mental anguish I put myself through,
I constantly avoid—no, I’m fine, just tired.
If they only knew.
It’s so hard to go on wishing,
but it’s all I have so I’ll hold onto it.