I was thirteen, I think,
When I came to the conclusion.
To be loved is to be understood,
Love is inclusion.
I wanted to be understood,
To be known and beloved,
For people to know my fingerprints,
Even though I was gloved.
I want to be understood,
For someone to learn my history.
To remember my favourite colour,
To never leave me a mystery.
I will always want to be understood.
Even when I am ancient.
To be translated without speaking,
To not feel like a transient.
To be loved is to be understood.
I wrote that in bold.
Little did I know,
In friendships it\'d be found.
I met a bunch of people,
Not always perfect.
But they remember my favorite books,
And love all my defects.
I still want people
To take the time to learn me,
To ask about all the books I write,
To never make me feel lonely.
I promise, someday, I\'ll be better than this.
I won\'t need reassurance to get through this.
Yet, I can\'t erase the thought that whispers,
\"To be loved is to be understood only.\"
-Insanely Hilarious