Sociopath

I am not like most others,
Or at least that's what everyone else tells me.
They'd call me crazy,
So only four people know.
The boy I trust with my life,
The girl that didn't judge,
The boy I love,
The girl that is abused.
I don't feel.
People try to describe
Happiness,
Remorse,
Excitement,
Anger.
But I don't understand,
And they don't understand that.
Sociopath.
I've been called that twice now,
Once by the girl that said I didn't care about anyone,
And once by the boy that asked me about empathy.
Empathy,
Another thing I don't understand.
I've been told it's biology,
So I guess I'm just missing out?
Missing out.
I've lost two things this week,
Both cherished friends.
I miss them dearly,
But I don't feel it.
To feel.
The one thing no one can describe to me.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741