#self-conscious
For a long time, I’ve had a fear of writing poetry.
A weird fear, I know.
But when you’re as self-conscious, anxious, and self-deprecating as me, you’ll find that it’s hard to voice… just about anything.
You see, I would never raise my hand in class, because what if I was wrong?
I would never sign up for weights, because what if I’m not that strong?
That pretty girl in class? Don’t even dream about it.
If you ask for her number, she’ll leave you without it.
She’ll think you’re weird, creepy, or even ugly.
That is why I stayed away from poetry.
What if what I have to say is not all that important?
What if what I write is bad, boring, or people find it abhorrent?
So I stayed away from it.
I kept everything I wanted to say bottled up inside.
Until one day, I sat.
And I cried.
I wondered to myself
*What went wrong in my life?
Why am I the way I am?
How can I fix myself?
What is my plan?*
It all started with typing.
And even though I’m still an anxious wreck
Aren’t you reading my writing?
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
let me explore with great length
the cliffs overhanging peril in my mind;
bluffs that overlook a sea
of fear and self-consciousness.
let me not stay here in wretched form,
complying with rules made by them.
them the people who mock my self-worth;
them the people who wallow in my loathing.
let me conquer this world unknown
and explore the cracks & crevices of my mind.
even I know not what lays there, in darkness;
even I know not what I am or why,
or how, or even for how long.
I yearn for knowledge or maybe the absence of.
I fear the vices that consume me each night.
need I these vices always?
need I these vices every night forever?
I am afraid to know the answer.
despair is nothing in the face of truth.
help me get there;
help me be not afraid in the face of peril.
i will walk to the edge of that cliff and fall,
but what happens next, I do not know.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
Flaws upon flaws,
My skin crawls,
The mirror reveals all,
My mothers words,
Lost to the whims of the world,
In a pursuit to please other girls,
I feel like an object of social dissection,
With the eye of the beholder,
What's your interpretation?
You see it too,
I hear the horror in your averted eyes,
You see all I despise,
There's no way for me to hide or deny,
I shouldn't be so fazed,
It's just a phase...
It will all fade.
~Zupe
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 10:58 AM UTC
when did fine come to mean depressed, anxious, scared, suicidal, desperate, self-conscious?
when did we start to lie?
"I'm fine," she says, as her stomach gnaws away at her insides, growling for food
"I'm fine," he says, as he pulls the sleeves of his sweater down over his blood-stained wrists
"I'm fine," she says, after purging all of her dinner
"I'm fine," he says, when the anxiety gets so bad that he can't breathe right
"I'm fine," they say, as they write their last goodbye,
one last lie.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
Suffer this ache
Captured in that hollow jar
Above your neck
Fell down
And cracked it open
Maybe it was intentional
Hurts out, irreversible
(Because)
Behind that black seal
I glow immutable
I’m terrified
To be remembered
For all my cracked lines
Forever bright, just to light up the edges
I’m terrified
To be remembered
Forever bright,
‘Cross broken spines and empty spaces
Suffer this ache
Everything will be okay
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 5:26 AM UTC