By Anne

 

My feelings are always wrong,

except for guilt which is what I deserve to feel

and the fear that must always control me:

 

My sadness and anger are selfish;

My happiness is a burden and a chore;

My very existence has brought hardship,

And my fault it has always been.

 

My job is to fix everything broken

and to hide from the world while doing it.

 

All people are evil inside;

To form relationships is a careless thing

–but being alone is pathetic.

 

My reality

fictional.

My opinions

wrong.

That which I love doing

isn’t worth doing.

At least this is what you’ve taught me.

 

Editor: Brennan Nick