The shame in me.....

Nobody's ever been proud of me. I'm always pushed aside for the other and overshadowed by them all- Stuck in stagnant hopelessness and perpetual isolation. Who can thrive in this world without hope anymore? All I am able to do is hide in uselessness as to cloak my shame... Because being a recluse is easier than admitting to all of the pent up guilt of being nothing to you... Yet I manifest myself in nothing to cope with the fact. But I unwrap my heart and my hand to escaped this sheltered life... Because words give me meaning instead. I've become one with the world of poetry in hopes that maybe some other place can give me the purpose and the pride you never had for me. And to an extent, it works. In some dimension, I am the master of... Something. And I can pursue my own happiness through the haziness of my clouded eyes still wet with tears. But I'll never have your love and I'll never be your pride and joy... So here I remain in this universe, Just barely able to breathe in my bubble where hope is my morphine and tears and derision are the only things that have never left my side. How am I supposed to have faith in myself when nobody else can...?