Guilt for being me.
Guilt for things that I can’t change.
There’s no real me. Just who you expected me to be.
Better then them. Better then the popular girls, better then the bullies, better then expectation. Now I’m someone living a life full of expectation, guilt, and pain.
I couldn’t make you happy. I couldn’t exceed. And, I spend every day beating myself up for the fact that I couldn’t be better.