There is a vanity in me
not to think well of myself,
for I have yet to achieve such
but to please others,
to like myself more
through their good opinion.

There is a fear in me
in my mind, every night
the love others feel for me
is erased, set back like a clock.
Every day I must work,
earn their love all over again.
In the trappings of my own mind,
love is so easily lost.

There is a doubt in me
with my friends and loved ones.
I trust no one, not even myself.
It is as unfair to them as it is to me.
I decided young, perhaps wrongly,
That those who claim to love you,
even those who truly do love you,
can and will leave you behind.

There is a desire in me
to liberate myself, to love myself
as I have never truly done.
I fear that in loving myself,
I will become something foolish.
Even still, despite my intent,
with a complete lack of trust
I am still that arrogant fool.