PICK ME

Often, I’ve thought this to be nothing but gentleness, Even went as far as mistaking it for kindness, 

When I was a kid, with only play time to worry about, I was very popular for my toys,

I had all the good blocks, the beautiful dolls. I’d share them, even as gifts, always putting my friends first and they loved me for that, 

There was this one time I gave up my favorite one. Just because my friend mentioned that they’d like it very much, 

Of course, I could’ve gone so far, but it felt as though I had needed to hear how much of a good person I am. 

It was only when I saw my poor doll outside in the mud that I came to face my delusions. 

My expectations that remain to be illusions I forced myself to pay for my pure heart. 

And to make it much worse, I was clueless how this for me, played a huge part. I had no idea, the worthlessness of my generous acts, 

Frankly, I never wanted to give up my sweet doll. I never once thought of coming second after I give my all -my own needs and preferences.

I never needed to be the blanket over a cold, 

Why then, did I not say no, for my doll?

I acted and betrayed my heart, just so I wouldn’t be alone, 

Just to please people with actions they only spoke,

I served everyone before I served myself,  It was always “What do they think?” 

While everyone was full of themselves, I was unable to identify myself,

I quickly turned my lights off for them to dream.  

I didn’t even realize the chains I formed around my ability to heal. 

Still, they never picked me. 

-Diana Indigo