Is hurts to see the past,
Being so ugly bitter in the present.
I panic about the future,
Left in a stagnant worry.

I find it hard to vocalise jealousy,
As I feel guilty it being part of me.
But can you really blame me,
Seeing you be loved before me.

I don't look like any of these women,
I appear differently in every way.
I internally panic and worry,
That you want something I'm not.

Why do you keep ahold of the past,
The memories, notes and valentine's.
By holding onto your used-to-bes,
I feel weak to my knees.

I saw it, but I wish I didn't,
Because now my insecurity thrives.
Like a venomous snake poisoning,
These thoughts come back to haunt again.