I’m not used to people staying,
not for long and not forever.
They always walk away in the end,
cause they don’t like what they see.
When I finally let them in
they all recoil in disgust.
I’ve wondered what was wrong with me,
that I drive away my friends.
They used to call me poisonous, a bitch,
arrogant and difficult.
They call me hateful and shallow,
self-absorbed and close-minded.
How could they know what’s in my mind,
what I hold dear to my heart?
And how can they know who I am,
when they don’t bother to learn?
Am I difficult and bitchy,
or arrogant and heartless?
I do not believe it is true,
but I could be wrong again.