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.