My Hollow Hobby

I tried to be existential.
It didn't matter.
I wrote something consequential.
I shouldn't have dared.
I revealed my personality.
Shouldn't have bothered.
They said to try vulnerability.
And no one cared.

Why, oh,
Why do I keep doing this?
I only disappoint.
Must be
Opportunities missed.
There's no point.

Pages stained
With bloody fingerprints.
My head is stained with scars.
Paper planes
I try to designate
To hit toward someone's heart.

But no one picks up the scraps
Of the thoughts
I wish I never had had.

Stupid words
It's so absurd
To still record
These sounds unheard

Free me from this hollow hobby,
This obsession that guides my hands,
For I know I never will be
A voice they wish to understand.