"Why must we always feel sorry for him?"
As if my pain is something I chose,
"As if we aren't all going through the same thing,"
But nobody knows the weight I hold.
"Bare minimum."
"Nuissance."
Words thrown around like they mean nothing,
But they stay inside my head,
Long after everyone stops talking.
I'm sorry that I make things harder,
Sorry when I need a little space,
I've left everyone alone,
I've kept to myself,
Yet somehow I'm still the problem.
I apologize for things that aren't my fault,
I care for everyone in this house,
I've been the shoulder people cry on,
I've given love without asking for it back.
I never asked for a reward,
Never asked to be praised,
I only wanted the same care
That I gave away so freely.
But maybe in your eyes
I'm just a nuisance,
Just another problem to deal with.
So fuck me, right?
I'm tired of saying sorry
For simply trying to survive the day.
Tired of feeling guilty
For having feelings of my own.
Maybe one day you'll understand
That I wasn't asking for the world.
I was asking for the bare minimum—
To be heard.
To be cared for.
To matter.