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Leah Vee May 2012
Pale bare skin
hasn’t seen the sun since some time last August.

Dark roots growing out
since lack of bleaching summer rays.

Dinners of Turkey and slices of pie
pile fat onto my body.

Insecurites

Talk to guys, but haven’t been able to make one stay
since the last one left in August.

Coldness has seeped into my skin
filling my veins with icy bitterness

Oh sun, fill me with warmth
shine, sizzle, burn confidence into my being.

Conceal
Jenelle Apr 2014
What is that one thing that is killing us all?
What is that one thing we can never face?
What is that one thing we let people use against us?
(our insecurities)

Here is a message from me to you:

Let go of your insecurities,
I know it might be hard but you gotta take one step at a time.
You are a beautiful and strong human being,
don't let anyone bring you down.
Don't you ever have doubt in yourselves.
There is at least one person who sees past your flaws,
and loves you for who you are.

Be strong and don't let anyone bring you down. :)
Dorothy A Sep 2011
I know why Vincent Van Gogh Cut off his own ear

We are a mad bunch, you see
Poets and painters and playwrights
On the prowl for something to
jump start our perpetual yearnings,
our keen senses and cravings,
on the quest for so much more
than the status quo,
of merely checking off just another day
from our calendars

We are those kinds of people
Who wish to reinvent the world
Often cursing at our failings and insecurites
While obsessively working to shape and sculpt
our view of this planet
To fit our own brand of imagination
To satisfy our starving hopes
and desperate dreams
To foster vivid visions
from the views that are vague  
And to wipe away
The nightmares of old
that cry out in us

We believe in make-believe
We who are misfits to "normalcy"
We rarely seem to fit into
The "real world"
Yet we know that this world is
Pure insanity
Stark madness
Sheer perplexion
Yet we are the ones
suffering for the sake
of our art
Often misunderstood
Many times branded as "weirdos"

I can understand the pain
Of not getting my art right
Of not seeing its worth
Because someone sniffed at it
Or scoffed at it
Or blindly passed it by
Many times, we want to break through
And join the world of our works of art
But we can't
We're stuck in the middle of its beauty
And nothingness

Yes
I know why Vincent Van Gogh cut off his own ear
Gossamer Dec 2013
"You're crazy and no one likes you." I don't know how to respond. I am ten and have never heard such hurtful words before. She smirks as I walk away in tears, silent in my own disbelief. At dinner that night, my mother says she is jealous of me because I am such a smart, kind girl. Now I am confused. Am I an outcast that is hated by all, or the poster child for perfection?

She is insecure
Envy green with jealousy
But she still hurts me

"Wow. It's really sad that you have to tattle to the principal instead of handling things yourself." I don't know how to respond. I am fourteen and am now embarrassed for asking my mom to talk to the school, and to make sure I didn't share any classes with my bully. I delete the post from my Facebook wall and lock myself in my room. At dinner that night, my mother says I am mature for contacting the school rather than fighting with my attacker. But I am confused. How can I stand up for myself if other people are solving my problems for me?

I cannot escape
Her words make me feel alone
What did I do wrong?

"Guess who." I know exactly how to respond. I am seventeen and I have had enough. My bully moved away two years ago; I thought she had moved on. Apparently, distance is not a problem for her. One sentence is all she will get from me: "I feel bad for you." The phone company has her number minutes later and I am proud of myself. At dinner that night, I don't tell my mother anything, because there's nothing to tell. There is no more confusion; I know that she is not the only one of her kind, but I also know that I am strong enough to handle anyone whose insecurites knock them down a few levels in the realm of maturity. I only wish the clarity had come sooner.

To my old neighbor:
Thank you for tormenting me.
You have made me strong.
Erin-Taylor Mar 2013
I know it sounds annoying,
and I know I keep droning on,

but I can't stop complaining...
And it's really hard to move along.

Do you know what it's like,
to live everyday...and wish you could be somebody else? Other than yourself?

I sometimes hate who I am.
All I can think about is being her.

I think I ought to be checked,
I seriously have a disorder.

"Stop! I'LL HAVE NO MORE! Stop with the obsessions! I don't wish to do this anymore!"

Do you know what it feels like to compare yourself to others...every second, of everyday?

My existence is based off of insecurites beyond belief
and wanting beyond my reach.

I wish I could stop, but no matter how many times I tell myself to...I can't.

This life of greedy desire has only just begun....
aegeanforest Nov 2013
One day I will be selling remedies for memories and songs for souls in my own little curiousity shop, just a turn into a corner of Greece’s small town, the bricks pure, and grander of them all is the clear blue sky that knows not boundaries; the sea filled with jewels shining like aquamarines, and I will be there, naked and sunbaked; a transcient. Only a tattoo of hope remains.



Or I will be strolling down the corridors of Paris, traipsing the Champ-Elysses, flirting with the French Patisser and receive an abundance of chocolates, my personal symbol of happiness, stuffed into my hands, and I saunter like I have the world backin’ me up, a curve on the face like no any other, flying chocolates into the air and hoping that whoever catches them will be in bliss, the pain made temporal.



I’m living in a city where poetry is considered a luxury, a place where words can never fill your stomach and love is but air which starves. I choke on the air I breathe everyday, filled with smoke, vengeance, the monday blues and friday hues, the petty complaints of ordinary civillans and insecurites about what their future will bring. What will my future bring? In school, an instituition which ought to develop but instead chains up, bringing me back to being a premature new born, just lacking the innocence of one. I write still, but of mindless formulas and definition of ‘gini coefficient’ which is futile when the gap between me and them widens every single minute, leaving me helpless and screaming, my voice sinking in the deep abyss. The moments creep. I weep now as on my bed I lie, extremely unprepared for the impending doom I will be facing, the regurgitation of memories which I have none, and a cloud of darkness looms.

Who shall dwell?
rebecca suzanne Dec 2014
The walls of your childhood home
used to hold their breath when you got upset.
I would pretend I didn't notice the holes
in the closet door and you would pretend
they didn't mirror the holes in your chest.
You never told me about your father, but
when you were drunk you'd mention your old man
and I could see all those
miles of running in your eyes.
I saw a picture in your mom's living room
of a man with the same jawline as you.
Always clenched,
always tense,
always ready to leave at a moments notice.
You said I made you softer.
I didn't know if that was a compliment
with the amount of venom you spat it out with.
You felt you were above vulnerability
but I remember
walking to your house in the rain
to shoo away your insecurites.
The door was unlocked
but you never really let me inside.
You didn't speak to me
for three days after it burned down.
When you finally did show up
at my doorstep you said
you were ready to come home.
I was ready to keep you warm in the winter
but I had forgotten
about your fists in the drywall
and the way you slammed doors
until the front window shattered.
Poetic T Jan 2020
I ain't got no signal,
              to tell your boys that

your shallow, shallow graved

beyond that your silent and I
                    throw gravel of silent
words over your face.

what that's all your worth.

I ain't got no signal to #hashtag
            you been died
                      after I shot you full

of body shots of verbal body shocks..



I never got your followers on my phone cos
            flakiness doesn't get followed but
                                 just shallow graved.

I poured water over you, cos a cap isn't worth
   finishing you off,

                     na my words collateral damage

on your form your slumped
                    blooded but no blood falling.

You need to realise you haven't got a shoot off,
            and your riddled with insecurities that
    

                  you and yours will have to either
   be buried in shallow graves or respect my
                                                            word around town.
Anony Mous Jan 2011
This fear
Is nowhere near
Anything I have experienced before
Leaving me shaken to the core
Wretched and poor
Happiness no more

This pain
Attains
Nothing  but lies
Watching my spirit die
While everyone is standing by
Receiving countless irritated sighs

All I know how to do is fail
My bones are so frail
Fresh thoughts have grown stale
My insecurities come at me like hail

I'm sorry I turned out this way
All that is pure has gone astray
I realize it's not okay
The more and more that I decay

This isn't who you wanted me to be
I am anything but happy and free
I never wanted this, you see
But it's these profound insecurites

I apologize
I know you put that pain in disguise
When I bombarde you with lies
Causing your anxiety to rise
You can't hide it, I can see it in your eyes

I tried and I tried
To keep you satisfied
Was it so hard to comprehend the words that I cried?
In you
In this life
I no longer confide
no structure or anything, just a poem I jotted down a very very long time ago that expresses the feelings that I kept bottled up.
Amelia Feb 2013
The makeup feels too heavy,
The lipstick- too unnatural
And the fendi scent sticks to my skin.
My mascara runs, as I rub my eyes.
Darkness covers the city,
A sigh of relief, then a deep inhale of life.
My head begins to know a faintness-
Stifle the loneliness,
Muffle the empty parts, fill it with something.
these thin ribbed tights, too easily torn
the night of many moments begins
and a night of helpless, wishful thinking sinks in
insecurites-itching and itching at my skin.
The Bass, the Boom.
I walk alone through the sea of people.
the never ending lull of the beat-the- pulse.
Lids drowsy, the pockets of confusion and lights
maybe for just a second, this moment will take me higher
She’s next to me, her own ecstacy,
The energy kicks and pulls,
I see the blood in her mouth, too much anxiety
But she looks so happy.
I have to leave, leave these confusing lights.
I hate this part,
I begin to think of you.

--amelia rose
ClawedBeauty101 Jan 2018
A command the neck hugging necklace was given

.....Chok(h)er.....

Believing the suffocation will comfort her fears and insecurites

....Chok(h)er....

A dazzle is distress is it's appropriate title. Secretly, into her skin it is driven.

....Chok(h)er....

Believing it has the right to silence her nerves that desire to warn her of their up coming death

....Chok(h)er....

Innocent in charm, it convinces her neck and brain to go numb. Her voice now hidden

....Chok(h)er....

Soon to be mute, this man made design,  confined to her neck

....Chok(h)er....

Is the unseen burden she carries. This chain of confinement should be forbidden

....Chok(h)er....

This piece of dark fashion, shows its goal loud and crystal clear

So why are people blinded?


For it is called...
The Choker...
....The Chok(h)er....
MEANING BELOW!!!

I have nothing against this beautifully designed piece of shadow jewelry XD for I wear them all the time!

But it is interesting how it is called a choker
Sometimes I find my voice mute... My singing fading because I wear them so much, and so tightly they damage the nerves in the back of my neck, and slowly bring forth numbness to the rest of my upper body...

It's like this, the chokers can represent the sin or danger in our lives that is so noticeable and clear, that we either ignore it or are to blinded to see it.

And we don't usuall see it until it's to late... Our if we do see it...  it's either to late to do something about it....
Or...
We notice it just in time and we are able to remove that danger before we get hurt, or someone else gets hurt...

Some thing so innocent and charming can be the most dangerous, painful thing in your life, just like a choker...

We can't become a slave to something that is so wicked, like sin, looks so harmless and innocent

But if not taken cared it correctly or removed... It will devour you.. And you will be it's slave...

Sometimes that numbness and pain we suffer can seem like a comfort zone for us, a place to feel safe,  but that pain will only betray you...

How much longer you spend this suffocation.. Of your Chok(h)er women of young and old (This also goes for men too XD)

Jesus is the Way
1/27/2018 (Saturday)
R Saba Jan 2014
i guess that after the rainfall
of september
i reached through october
to clear it all away, blue skies
and lies fading from my tongue
and yet, all through november
the headache persisted
and i listed the failure to forget
among my insecurites
left there to dangle from my fingers
and as i pressed my hand into your waist
i could feel them bleeding
bit by bit
into the fabric of your jacket
and i feel better now
and the headache?
well, suffice to say
that in december, i noticed
while kissing you
that you tasted faintly
of ibuprofen
metaphorical headaches
Jackie Mar 2013
I'm walking away from you
With all the scars from what you put me through
Told myself I would never fall for you
But yet I did

Now look at us
Spitting images of our parents
No trust
Told you it would never be like that
We weren't our parents
We were us

Our love was strong
Even though the miles seperated us
We got through it all
Pushed aside our fears
And jumped

But we let insecurites run our lives
Listened to every rumor
Every lie
We just couldn't hold on
Like our parents
Not as strong
As we wanted to be

Now we are both free
But still see our parents
Horrible history

Now that's us
But we tried so hard
To not fall into that catagory
About me and my ex girlfriend. Her parents and my parents have horrible marriages and we didn't want to end up like them. But we did...
Don't let us fight anymore,
no,my best friend;agree for once:
because together we can defeat.
turn faces, and leave a never ending
trail of broken hearts in our tracks?
Our friendship will overpower,
so never fear, because I am hear,
I can fix that broken spot,
what is hurt will be mended,
because I am hear for you to trust
when evrything is tough
I am hear Im going through it
when times flys by and takes its toll.
when you ask: when? or what is?
oh, when you find him, yes that special one
I will comfort your insecurites,
beccause, LOVE!
you are pretty, you are buetiful
if you need a helping hand I'll be there,
so lets forget and forgive,
let it all fall in place,
because if life is a puzzle ill fit next to you,
becuase when the going gets tough,
you need a friend to keep you going
and to eat icecream with


from your dear friend
ive been fighting with one of my best friends i wrote this poem as a note for her
Fly Vida Jul 2011
My eyes map out the lines of life on your face as my fingers forge paths in the valleys that span your chest and back. My tongue explores the rapids of your kiss.. I only know your shallow. The white capped waves atop deep, deep rivers. I want to know the words and thoughts that lie on the banks. Secrets never spoken. I want to swim upstream to your earliest memories so I know where you have been, and race downstream, so I may find where you are headed. I want to dive deep into your eyes where your soul lies and your dreams fly. As I ascend my legs scale cliffs and hold onto you for dear life. I want to fill every space between your fingers with my own so that I know we're both whole. I want to be the one to make you the happiest and have the potential to make you hurt the most. I want to be the one to make you the most vulnerable, and provide you the greatest refuge from the storm. I want my insecurites to embrace your vulerabilities so that we may both be... Open.

I have only five minutes to express to you what it would take ten millenniums to verbalize, so look into my eyes and take my hand. Follow my lead and wrap your arms around me. Feel secure to rest your bones, and I promise you will never be left alone. And if you ever find yourself losing count of the stars in the sky, close your eyes and imagine me with you, that I may help you find where you left off. That I may help you find where you left. So that I may help you find... My mind travels miles to find you again.
...I lost
God
beneath six feet of collapsed
core belief
and mysteries faded to black
as raging fires of
corrupted reasons and logic
fed the insecurites
of the dawn of defiance
Foaming at the mouth
while embracing the
manifesto of the black sun
under the heavens of sins
and the dying
Remnants of a miracle
silhouttes of faith
tomorrow will be dark
But
somehow
for some reason
I know that I
will believe once
again...
Mek
01.11.10
Danielle Shorr Jul 2014
I have been wanting
To wash my mouth out with soap
Bathe in arsenic
Shower in ethanol
Let it burn against my skin
I have been trying
To rid myself of every ounce of him
I have been picking at my skin
Pulling at my insecurites
Wondering how anyone
Could ever want someone like this
Worrying if anyone
Will ever want someone like this
Will ever want something that has been broken so many times before
I have reattached my limbs
Too many times to count
My wounds are not visible enough
To ward off admirers
But every word that slips out of my mouth
Is tangled with the weight of story
******* with the lines of a revelation
That I will never be able to fully write
I wonder
If every suffering was glued to my skin
Would you still find me beautiful
If my tattoos were passage to destruction
Would you still want to cross paths
I will never be a blank canvas
I have far too many paint splattered stains to ever be new again
I will never be a clear picture
I will never be art making history
I am only Pompeii in my destruction
In my catalysmic nature
But I am building myself back up
From the ash I've kept inside me
Rooting myself deeper
So I can learn how to stretch my arms out further
So I can learn to trust
I am hopeful
That there is future brighter than past
That salvation
Will be easier to swallow
If it is handed to me
By loving hands.
We are only human..
We have scars that remind us of the battles that we've dealt with..
We are strong, to have held on for this long..
Misconception of the mind can make the whole world blind,
and define all the beauty in life, unless you hide...
The things that matter the most, are soon to slip away..
As the earth with holds such dismay...
As the Leaves fall slowly, like hearts and tears feel like acid running down your cheek,
A burning sensation that overwhelms your eyes, haunts you forever... Insecurites wont get the best of me .. like the rest of society
Tamara Stoffels Feb 2014
Trapped in a burning building with nowhere to go.
The smoke of hypocricy fills my lungs and seeps into my fragile bones.
Panic and anxiety cloud my judgement and addle my mind with my darkest fears.

My mouth works faster than my brain keeping up with the steady stream of lies that pour out of it.
Deception is the only protection I have from the flames of the  judgemental.
Fantasy anchors me to this world and keeps my soul from burning.

I'm burnt and broken in too many ways to describe.
In too many places to heal.
After many years of the unending, self-fueling fire of my insecurites I've come to know the cold, the winter.
Finally I'm numb.
No more feelings, no more fighting.
I'm fire damaged.
Hello Daisies Jan 2019
I'm in denial
That anyone loves me
It's not paranoia

I know the truth
It echoes in my head
As tears fall onto my bed

Nobody cares
I'm just a tool to use
For them to get ahead

Noones ever loved me
Noones ever gone beyond for me
I can't fight my insecurites

Because they're right
I am unloved
A cursed child

a mistake at birth
A burden growing up
Last resort as an adult

I'm never a first choice
Barely Last choice
So I'll lower my voice

Let myself be used
It's what tools are for
Not like I'll ever be beautiful

Why did you like me
Why did you sleep with me
Just desperate for any company

Found someone new
No surprise
Already used to the lies

No boy will love me
Nor any friend
But they'll sure pretend

Can't blame them
I don't even love me
filled with self pity

Years on repeat
Everyone leaves me
Always shamelessly

Not one soul
Would walk one extra step
To help me as I wept

Nor does anyone
Find me worth
Anything but a empty purse

I am unloved
Yet i exist
Why did god make me

So ******* helpless
This is a ****** mess of words but yeah hey atleast i know why ive been crying all day. All my thoughts and everything thats been happening has been echoing in my head that im alone. Im never a first choice and I'm only around for people who are desperate. They all leave me for someone better. Always. I guess my mom loves me at least.
If she didn't id have killee myself already lol
Phoebe Caitlin Feb 2015
I know you hate yourself
I know that you don't eat
I know that you self harm
I can see it

I know that you're depressed
I know you've tried before
To end your life
Because there's nothing to live for
Anymore

But there's just so much
And I'm only young
So I'll hide my insecurites
Bundle up my problems
And be your ray of sun

"She's always so carefree
Ever the optimist
Happy-go-lucky
I wish I could be like her"

But I don't mind
I'll do it without fail
Because the only other option
Is I let you fall
arubybluebird Jun 2014
write the truest thing you know
even if makes you sad
persepective starts to change
a new gloaming
stop listening to your mind
read between your ******-up lines
drunk and in-loss
the emptiness starts to creek between the shallow spaces of your ribs
breath, you stop breathing
their whispering is never-ending
throughout the night
darling, will you ever be anything enough?
your mind it's in your mind
plague of maddening darkness
there is no frenzy
you were never very charming
always in-between
make up your mind
make up your life
take off your blue eyeshadow
take off your clothes
you've never been quite cool
make up your heart
last years tears stream past the valley of your cheek bones
fall out of your drought
fall out of your image
fall in love with yourself again
I won't remind you of your insecurites
love, I have forgotten them
drunk and with dreams
I lift you up
to bury you under
- May 2014
My english teacher told me to write what I really meant to say, so I decided to go about my writing more honestly. I tried to write like a lover would instead of how a poet would. I wrote about how your eyes are cerulean, and that when you laugh, your corneas burst. And I wrote about how you lose track of what you're doing very easily and how I still feel your touch on me hours after you're gone. And I wrote about how you walk like you're on a tightrope which always throws me off because in many ways you're clumsy. I wrote about how it's almost impossible to describe how I feel about you without using caps and how you're so much more than an MLA formatted essay. And you're more than a stamped apology letter, and you're more than a poem to add to my collection. You're more like a novel, you fill the margins with footnotes and I never want to put you down. I want to re-read you until the pages start to fall out and most of them will be dog eared and highlighted, I'm sorry I just love everything about you and I'm also sorry that I've never been exactly what you wanted but please remember that I breathe you in every single day. I fall asleep to the sound of your voice even if I haven't heard it in days and I hear a song and want to show you it. I can feel how good of a person you are because you haven't stopped knocking the wind out of me since we first met. I've always been told that it takes just a spark to light a wildfire. Is that true? I hope so. If it is, then we're going to be set ablaze. Tsunamis roar in your eyes and nobody's dared to tell you to calm yourself. I think it'd be a privilege to drown in your eyes and feel the weight of your insecurites. Have you ever kissed somebody that made you taste colors? Have you ever hugged the sun or told the moon all your secrets? I look at you and I've done all three. But I want to know what the sunset looks like when you're in love with me. Are you in love with me? Is that even possible? I've found the valleys of your spine and studied your cheekbones to make sure they weren't porcelain. I want to hear your voice crack when you speak to me but only because when your voice is cracked I can fill the cracks with mine and that's my definition of a conversation. Everything points towards you and I can't help but love you. I think this is my definition of love. I chose you out of everybody, that's love, right? No, I didn't choose you. I didn't get to choose. You don't get to choose who you love. That's what I've always been told. Yes, this is love. I love you.
luna Feb 2018
my depression keeps growing
my depression keeps changing
in middle school my depression was simpler
i was depressed because of my insecurities
i valued my physical appearance too much and believed i could never be beautiful
i thought i could never be more depressed than i was then
now i only wish those insecurites  were my only issues
i no longer have those same beliefs
and i wonder if i got over them earlier would my depression have never continued
in high school my depression cared about society
i cared about what people thought
and it cared about how many friends i had
the insecurities grew and anxiety developed  
i couldn’t value myself and became distracted
i woke up without intent
after high school my depression became less selfish
i worried about those who’ve spent so much on me
the financial strain i’ve been causing
i thought about those i’ve disconnected with
my depression keeps growing even when i try to stop it
my attempts always fall short
the pain keeps growing
and i’m still depressed
River Jun 2017
I'm always looking for a thrill
That will fulfill
The echo humming silently within
I search for a bridge
That will bring together the chasm between my heart and my mind
It pains me to be so distant,
To feel nothing inside

And yet I started to feel something today,
Like a a sprout growing forth from barren soil
My fears birthed from years of endless toil
Were overcome by the power of Love
It cut my fears down to size
It opened up my eyes
It gutted me and had me on the floor crying
Thinking of absurdities, like dying
I felt so many things I haven't felt in so long
My heart was bursting forth with so much bittersweet love
My ego caved and my insecurites could not be saved
As the wave of Love ravaged my every notion
And suffocated my ego in the depths of the Ocean
Where I experienced profoundly God's undying devotion
His love is unconditional, limitless
In endless supply
How could I fathom this,
Being a little human, am I
But I took "I" away
And saw
We are all
Eternal brothers and sisters
Stuck in our internal wars
But God just wants to love us
And heal our our scars.
Selena WH Apr 2018
Her scars
Are not ugly.
They are beautiful,
They speak of her pain,
The battles
She valiantly fought
With herself,
Her insecurites,
Her fears,
Each of them
Tell a different story,
And they stand
Testament to the fact
That she survived
All the ordeals
She has ever
Faced.
Wear every scar or insecurity or fear as if it's your armor. You guys got this, don't let anything keep you from surviving or living.
Zane Jan 2021
my worst fear has been realised.
the ascending night terrors i begged to be rid of
exploded like a thousand fireworks before my eyes
out of dreamland, into reality.

i swore up and down to myself
that the voices foretelling your inevitable betrayal
were nothing but the howling wind
of my deeply set insecurites.
yet today, it was confirmed.
engraved onto my very eyes,
you with another.
i

am used to this.
the burning and stabbing pain of being forsaken
being used as a fuel to feed another's growth
and when you had finished gulping your massive fill
your doubts were satiated.
like a child, bored of his new toy.
i was but a springboard
for you to launch into someone better.
the inbetweener of lovers
who is doomed to be forgotten
just as he always is.

— The End —