Michael's poem is a raw, unfiltered cry of loneliness. The speaker sits in a cold, dark room, and the images are painful ones: tears, broken glass, a carpet stained scarlet. The poem hints at self-harm and a sense that life won't last long. Anger flares up as the speaker tells someone who claims to love them to go away, but the last line, "maybe, just maybe / I loved you," shows how much hurt sits underneath the rage.
The second stanza steps back and speaks plainly. The speaker says the worst feeling is not being loved, whether by a parent, partner or friend. Being called stupid and worthless by their mother, and having been homeless, has left them asking what the point of life is. The mood is bleak, heavy and desperate, and the rough spelling and blunt language make it feel like it was written in a moment of real pain.
If this feels close to your own life, please talk to someone you trust, such as a teacher, relative or counsellor.