All I want is for somebody to love me.

Thoughts of this sort broke her mother's heart. Knowing it just wasn't going to happen not only made her feel disgusted towards herself, but pained at the realness of the situation.

I want to say it will be okay.

It won't be okay. It won't be okay. It won't be okay.

Why? The inevitable question, the one that will always be asked, by everyone; it will never be answered.

It will never be answered.

Intensity runs through her body, sadness creeps in through her mouth, out her eyes and nose. It's real.

Capitalized real.

For fear of shouting and scaring them away- as usual. Nobody respects the challenges that await her. If they did, they wouldn't care.

All I want is for somebody to love me.

Then why won't it happen? My mother says it will eventually. She was always a terrible liar.

It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault.

I saw myself incorrectly. My lack of self frightens them, 'why won't she do something about that?' I'm not deaf, I'm just blind. Blind, with eyes? I'm naked, exposed, cold. I just needed to hear what nobody would tell me.

Nobody would tell me.