Insecure

Just a word bubble from my head.

The world wraps me in extended arms of lies

telling me night time stories in which

my hopes and dreams can rise

but when I open my eyes they switch

back to nothing.

Why should I believe a word of kindness spoken

I've been lied to before, I'll be lied to again

this feeling grabs me hands are choking,

suffocating me in what I fear may be the end

of my trusting.

It seems baffling my level of mistrust

that can only make sense to the commonly unsure

because I know of the lies told in lust

and maybe they're right I'm just insecure

maybe they're not.

You are good and kind and fresh, but

I view with eyes of old hurt and fear

this hand grabbing my throat begins to cut

out my words and all I say is with tears

I fall silent.

Sense is not a thing I seem to make

and that seems unreasonable

if you hadn't seen my every mistake

I have made in my past to get my life to this shamble

I live daily.

Transparency is a gift shown to only those with eyes

to see, to trust, but I get walls built in my view

and without those eyes I may be blind

to the real truth, to the real you

I just can't look.

I don't expect your patience within such

a confusing mess as my opinion

because to expect that would be to ask too much

as you can't find the answers within them

when I don't ask the questions.

Wishing I could halt myself on an inward breath

where the insistent talking and insecurity

attacks you, my words fall of deaf

lips as my own, I don't see my own intensity.

It must be scary.

I want to breath freely and think without thoughts

where I stop myself feeling thoughts so unfair

but I still do as my mind contorts

to conclusions that simply were never there

but sometimes they are.

How do you make sense of the world

to divulge the ones who are true

and not collapse in a ball, tightly curled

in a foetal position to hide the lies in front of you.

How can you tell?

I will lock my lips tight and suppress my brain

because it seeps and crawls along the floor

tainting each person in it's wake to the insane

mess that keeps me in and guards the door.

I will be silent.

I don't know how to keep it in so much now

that anxiety on my shoulder, who's never

there for a reason and I just don't see how

I can carry on, will mistrust stick forever?

Or am I just insecure?