insecurity gets the best of me.
even when I don’t mean for it to.
a fear of becoming bothersome
with these afflictions I try to suppress.
I suffer restlessly with these sentiments,
earnestly craving a silence from the voices
that resound persistently in my head.
I struggle with the irons wrapped around me,
screaming routinely that it’s all a facade.
no matter how hard I try, how far I run,
the thoughts are always ahead of me.
always one step in front, beckoning me.
enticing me to welcome their embrace.
an embrace of sorrow, of lies and of pain.
a place of immeasurable uncertainty.
blanketed by a face of calm.