I’m clumsy.

I trip and slowly break.

Every time so small you don’t even notice,

Until I’m cracked like a porcelain doll,

And you finally see the pain inside me,

Only then will you know me really.

You’ll see the anxiety,

Rolling layers deep.

The sadness tangled inside me,

Feeling like I’m not good enough.

The insecurities that tear me from the inside out,

Comparison weighing me down.

I’m not a good daughter.

I don’t deserve any friends.

I should sit at home and be lonely.

Maybe it’d be better if I said nothing.

Because what I say doesn’t matter.

No matter what I do I will not be good enough.

This is what the world tells me.

So I need to find something to tell myself.

Something that will bring the pieces back together.

Because I’m tired of being broken.

Chipping and cracking.

Sometimes I think I’m too broken now to fix myself.

That my mistakes define me.

My past circumstances define me.

I don’t need acceptance.

I don’t want it.

The only acceptance I need is from myself.

This is what I tell myself.

Yet I still search for somewhere to belong.

Because belonging is a human desire.

Everyone aches for it.

Feels the need for it.

Though I wish I didn’t.

Because who wants to belong in a world filled with hate?

Morals have disappeared and left no trace.

Standards are ignored.

There’s no regard for loving yourself.

Because who wants to love themselves when they can love other people?

We crave acceptance from those who love themselves…

Yet we were never taught to love ourselves.

“So many years of education, yet no one taught us how to love ourselves and why.”