at fault

how am i the odd one out no matter where i go? how am i somehow good enough at everything, that i’m not good at anything? it hurts me, it hurts me so bad. but i’m not deserving of sympathy if the problem was my fault. i can't light the house on fire and then cry when i have nowhere to call home. that's not how things work. it's like i'm back in fourth grade, stuck in my bed,  toss and turn,  i’m sorry, i’m sorry, all i need is a drop of sympathy, but i started the fire, so its my fault, its all my fault. i didn't mean it like that, but then how did i mean it?