I’m made of,
blue skies,
sunshine,
fluffy clouds,
and rainbows.
Yet I tend to rain,
and have clouded eyes,
my touch can be lightening.
How am I,
even nearly enough,
to be able to breathe?
I fear that,
you hate me,
the rest of the sky,
just tolerates.
I’m filled,
to the brim,
with insecurity,
and unnecessary,
anxiety.
A storm,
of emotions,
and uncertainty.