The End of the Other

I talk but nobody hears.
When they hear, they think I speak in riddles.
Outcasted.
Outsider.
Nothing important to somebody.

Who will love a girl like I?
Somebody ugly.
A demented mind that only fools will lust for.
Somebody to listen to the muddled mind of discord and chaos.

There's nobody like that to see the world through my eyes.
These ugly eyes who longs to see pretty things.
Alone, I shall stand.
A heart has to turn into an icy cavern to which there's nothing to love.

Stab me.
Stab me, break me, take me, blow me up, stomp on me, slit my throat, strangle me until I die.
Do it, I beg of you.
It's the only way I can feel so happy.

Nobody wants this freak.
Nobody wants this messed up mind.
Can't I just get somebody to understand me?
That's an impossible task for all.

Who is willing, anyways?
Is my mind something to be proud of?
What is my purpose if I can't capture a man's heart?
Do I actually deserve somebody, a family, even by slim chances-a child?

If I talk in a muddle mess, then that's just me.
If it's going to cause you to just put blame on me, do it.
If it means you'll kill me, I'll accept it.
Make sure somebody loves me with the muddle.

My mind is something people hate so why the hell should I love it so?