And it hurts the most
When you try everything
And you still feel
Like someone is constantly twisting your chest
And banging on the inside of your mind

People look to me to solve their problems
Fix their lives, make everything okay
But what if I myself am a puzzle
An unsolvable equation
Then who gets to fix me?

Measure every word,
Every use of punctuation,
Every emoticon and emoji
Down to the smallest gram

Think twice. No--
Thirteen times,
Before opening your mouth.
And dont talk too much or you're self centred

Check every message, comment.
Nothing too harsh
Nothing insensitive
Nothing that might scare them away
Or tarnish their view of you

Write
Delete
And rewrite
Then quickly send before you chicken out

To be the black sheep of the family —
what a terrible thing to be.

All the neighbors and relatives
heap praise on my super-successful siblings
and hurl insults at me
at the first chance they get.

I know all too well –
it is their jealousy of my siblings' success
that they take it out on me.

If success is measured by
money and fame,
I am not going to take that bait –
I am happy as I am.

Insult me all you can,
I can take it all in.
For you can only give
what you have,
and for that reason
I forgive you.

I remain the black sheep
of my family–
by choice,
at peace and forever free.