Shapes [Poem]

Shapes, squares, triangles and all, put together, brought together, and structured together. I am a shape, a very ugly, forgettable shape.  I have no unique form, no beautiful colors, no edges, sides, or corners to stand on my own, existing without any definition, all alone. And on top of that, I am put together with the ugliest shapes, squares to hide myself, triangles that hurt others, and circles so I can run away from all my problems, no other shape aligns with me. No matter what angle they look, they’ll be disgusted with what they see. Disturbed, beyond disgusted, until they stopped looking. Until they wouldn’t even turn my way, eventually, they had nothing to say. As the other shapes, came together, I sat there, still, knowing, that no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be able to. never will it be more than a fantasy, never will I fit. Never will I be seen, I doubt anybody has an eye that keen. Everyone else is a solid shape, I’m just abstract, put together with the most disgusting, confusing shapes, I myself can’t understand, but even if they wanted to see, they’d never be able to, I don’t really exist. Maybe I could pretend to be another shape, then others would want to connect with me. I carve, and carve away, hoping to create something that’d make others want to stay, trying to change my shape so I could be seen. But no matter how much I did, I was never seen. Carved like a circle, I’d just roll off all the other shapes, I was never meant to be seen, and that’s that. People spend their lives trying to appeal to others, trying to be seen, clinging onto anything that can make them unique, or cared for, but maybe, just maybe, there was never any.