Analysis of What did I do?

I try and picture a world where I’m happy and free, but that’s not realistic when I don’t even like being me

What did I do? I often ask.
I didn’t do anything, but I’m always called last. Often overlooked, but never under scrutinized. Often left in your past which you heavily criticize. “This seems to be the pattern of my life.” Is often what I theorize.
‘I’m just not good enough’ is what you see in my eyes.

What did I do? Why does god mock me? I guess some things aren’t meant to be loved, like an old jacket at a swap meet. Creating personas, tryna be cocky, but they can easily tell that it’s not me. But who’s for me? No one, because love forgot me.

Now I’m numb. You can say I’ve accepted my fate. If no one cares then neither do I. It’s better to keep it moving then to lay down and cry. Maybe along the way I’ll realize why, I ever sought approval. When they wouldn’t bat an eye even if I died.

What can I do? I can just do what I did.

“What did I do?” You were just being you.

What can I say? Living for approval is no way to live.