Will you read my poem called "Do you get me?"

sometime’s i feel like i cant be more different from- so segragated from- so indevisually put from- from this whole world- so misunderstood as just a young girl- i face the world with my last plasent onze’s of energy- hidin behind a mask that say’s do you? do you get me? hiding behind a mask as a mettaphore of hiding inscureity- and disablity- should i be judged by what i wear?- should i be judged by what i like to hear?- do you get me,is the question- and TO get me is that an objection?- if i were to leave some place far away- if i dare,- never to return not for oneday- would u care?- i’d lock and hid myself in a room, to see no one’s face- to run from no place- would u get me? would u understand me? i’d stay in that room and i would die-..because u dont get me u dont even try.-