I am not talented
And I refuse to believe that
I am
I realize this might be a shock, but
Talented,
Is a lie
I am not good enough
In 30 years, I will tell my children that
I have my priorities straight because
Perfect
Is more important than
Trying
I tell you this:
Once upon a time
I tried my best
But this will not be true in my era
Perfect is right
Experts tell me
Perfect is better than trying
I do not conclude that
Trying is more important
In the future,
I will be better than no one
No longer can it be said that
I have talent
It will be evident that
I will never be correct
It is foolish to presume that
I am talented
And all of this will come true unless we reverse it

Today will be the day
I face my fears—
the spiders, the snakes,
the mountains so fierce.

My question: why?
All this time
I never stood my ground.
I would just flee and shout,
but never figured out why.

Why am I so scared?

To them,
I’m the monster in their world.
I disrupt their peace.
I ruin their life.
I never knew
they were as scared as I.

People say I’m irrational.
“It’s not scary,” they claim.
But now I realize—
there’s no need to worry.

They’re more afraid of me
than I am of them.

It will all be fine,
if I only
face my fears.

People know me,
not for who I am
But who I want to be,

In the middle of the night
I stare at the ceiling
trying to figure out
what to do

What friends are real?
Who actually likes me?
How can I get rid,
of these insecurities,
that take over my life?

I try to hide,
to run away from my thoughts
but they keep coming back.

I can't fight what I feel.
So why do I even try?

People in my life leave
never coming back
How can I live like this?
Lying to myself,
trying to find someone to love.

Because I cant seem to find someone
who loves me for me.

A life full of people—
laughing, talking—
none seem to fit me.
None at all.

I walk through life
with more insecurities
than I can count,
wondering when
I’ll fall down.

I see a person
much like I.
I question if
he has insecurities
that he will just deny.

We talk about our struggles,
but when will he know
how much he means
to someone like me?

It hurts—
the smile,
every day.

I just can’t wait
for the time
when I can fall down,
and he’ll hold me
as I cry.