A speaker lists her own flaws before anyone else can: loud, obnoxious, annoying, stubborn. The short, stacked lines, each starting with "And," sound like a confession, or like someone bracing for criticism she has heard before. Then the poem turns. She says she cares deeply about the people around her, yet those people keep leaving.
What she feels is confusion mixed with hurt. The last two lines hold the real question: are others "trying to cut me at my roots," meaning they are treating her unfairly, or is there something about herself she can't see? The root image suggests the damage feels deep, as if the departures threaten who she is. The mood is raw and honest, and it is unresolved. She doesn't blame anyone or let herself off the hook. She sits in the uncertainty, which makes the poem feel like a private thought written down in a lonely moment.