Lisa varen's untitled poem is a raw, painful look at a speaker who feels like a failure at everything, even at suffering. The repeated "I am no good" turns into a bleak kind of logic: she can't stay in bed with depression, can't make her eating disorder severe enough for hospital, can't even cut properly. Behind each line is a longing to be seen. The speaker seems to believe that only visible damage will make people care, while her "always smiling face" hides how much she is hurting.
The mood is heavy, exhausted and quietly desperate. The thought of sleeping and never waking up appears almost casually, which makes it more unsettling. The last lines, where she says she would be no good even at dying, and then asks "Will I ever be good enough??", show how deeply the pain is tied to self-worth. The doubled question marks read like a plea for someone to answer. If this poem reflects how you feel, please reach out to someone you trust or a local crisis line.