In just three lines, the speaker admits to something painful: a pattern of loving the wrong people, or the wrong things, all because of a deep wish to be treated well. The key word is "learned." Love here isn't a lucky accident or a pure instinct. It's a habit picked up over time, maybe from past hurt, maybe from settling for less and calling it affection.
The logic is a little twisted, and that's what gives the lines their sting. Wanting to be treated right should lead a person toward the right people. Instead, the speaker's longing has pulled them the other way, as if the hunger for kindness made them easier to fool or quicker to hope. The poem doesn't say exactly who or what the "wrong" is, which lets readers fill in their own experiences.
The mood is quiet, tired, and honest. There's no anger, no dramatic cry, just a plain confession that sounds like someone finally seeing their own pattern clearly.