odd one out

odd isn't it that after all this time i don't want anyone or anything save for a soft landing and a room of my own all those years of desperate clinging wanting shrouding me in repellent neuroses a beacon for the no-good-bad-boy-through-and-through-narcs and bullies stuck to my chest begging me to fix them and i really thought i could but why did i bother excoriating myself at the feet of these thieves an extreme sport more than just a dangerous hobby but a death-wish suicide by so-called love slowly death by a thousand insults and slaps and punches and rapes and oh how i wish i'd listened to all the gentle messages stupid stupid stupid for such a smart girl odd isn't it