Growing up so alone,

 feeling as if I am always in the wrong.

 Even though, it is not true, I believe it.

Wonder why I am so bad.

 

I truly believe that I am bad,

so alone I am.

I do deserve anything else

and wonder why, why me?

 

Eventually, I realize that I am ok.

 I am not bad, not at all.

I just grew up in chaos.

Chaos was  my friend.

 

A friend who kept me safe.

Safe from my parents,

who never talked to me.

 who failed to see me for me.

 

Finally, at last, I see the issue:

I was not ever bad; I am good

The pain is intense,

but I will move into love from chaos.