I don't have an issue with self confidence,
A repetitive lie I've begun to notice that I tell.
It's like the pain in my chest when I see other people's success compared to mine,
I ignore both.
When I read other writing I start out feeling so much inspiration,
Then I reflect back on my own and feel incompetent,
Because I can't write what they write.
I can feel what they feel through their words,
Something I wish I could accomplish.
It's jarring and frustrating,
I keep judging myself.
The very thing I've run from has become my life.
I can't escape the judgmental ways of this world
not from my father,
not from my mother,
not from my brother, my sister, or anyone.
not even from myself.
Because like it or not, the judgment is me.
It's soaked into my veins,
Like an obsession, an addiction.
I wish I could pray it away,
But I don't have any faith.
There is no God to save my soul,
To give me pity,
To take my sins away.
There is only scrutiny over my every move.
Whether it comes from within or someone else,
It's not something I can wash away with a prayer.