i wonder about you. and i wonder about you. and i wonder about you and you and you.

there's something i'd like to know. and that is. what is so good about me. or am i so bad that it is good? i am bad. worse than i thought i was. i used to think i was good. good in this little thing and that little thing but no. time has revealed the devil and the angel has succumbed.

what's there to like about me? i am short. i am not pretty. i have bad skin. i have bad habits. i like to fart loudly and smell my own fart. i like to burp. i cannot control how my leg shakes when i enjoy my food. i cannot control how i must laugh and talk loudly. i cannot control how i cannot act like a girl. and i cannot control my feelings. what is there to like about me?

reasons. none. affections are plenty. and i still cannot understand myself. how can you or you or you or you or you understand me? how can i understand you or you or you or you or you if i can't even understand abit of myself?

i'm no longer self-assured. i hide behind a facade of pain and fear. of tomorrows that may or may not come. of people who may or may not stay. of you and you and you and you and you.

tell me. what am i to you. what am i to you. what am i to you and you and you. and why. why am i that. there is nothing about me that you or you or you or you should like. because i'm beginning to find a flawed person. a person with many flaws. in me.

there is nothing to be sorry about but

i am sorry