It Hurts

It hurts that I don't have friends, and I don't think you understand; I try to hold on, but all I've got left is a strand.

It hurts that I have social anxiety, and I don't think I understand; I try to talk, but the words are trapped inside me, as if they've been canned.

It hurts that I am so caring, and I don't think you understand; caring too much destroys part of me, eventually there will be nothing else of me.

It hurts that I'm not enough, and I don't think I understand; I love and help with all my soul, but it's not appreciated, and my self image takes the toll.

It hurts that I'm so alone, and I don't think you understand, but how could you, when you have no idea how many negative thoughts are in my head, all of them have been combined together, have been crammed.

It hurts to see the world in color when all there really is is black and white, and I don't understand; I don't deserve such punishment, don't deserve to be banned.

It hurts to hurt, and hurts to feel; someone please come take this pain so I can heal.

You don't understand, and never will; don't try to, because you never will until you can feel it.

All I have is one, and it is fragile; my heart is made of glass, and is not ample.

My smile is rare, and it hurts; so many things I wish I could change.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.