It's not that something is going on,

It's just that everything has gone wrong.

Not so much that it's gone wrong

As that it's always been wrong.

There are two of me.

The one that everyone knows: fun, bright, and bubbly.

And then there's me.

The former doesn't like the latter.

She's: dark, scarred, ugly.

But I understand-

I don't like me either.

I don't love me.

I can't love me when no one else does.

It's a waste of time. 

I'm a waste of time.

How am I to have words when

I can't form thoughts? 

I can't get them out.

I can't get out.

I can't get out.

How can I get out when my doorknob

only turns one way?

It only turns one way.

And that way-

Is the wrong way.