write
Exactly how I feel,
As insecurities play with my brainwaves,
Forcing me to relive the past,
The rejection,
The overwhelming sense of just not being good enough.
Like my own mini PTSD,
Triggered.
I could tell you, for sure,
How I'm battling inside,
with my logic, and my feelings,
How I may trust you with my life,
Yet suddenly doubt,
Because you are talking with someone.
By rights, I could tell you,
How fear courses through my body,
Twisting my stomach, my heart, my mind,
Making me belive I can predict the future,
Based on past events,
As though somehow experiencing something once,
Is a prophecy.
But then again, fool me twice- shame on me.
And so, I could tell you,
How I've delved into self preservation,
How I'm preparing to up and leave,
Even though it tears out my heart,
Because then at least I get the 'fortune' to say,
I made that choice.
I could tell you, finally,
That right now, I fear myself,
How I'm seeing into my soul darkness,
The way I watch as my shell hardens,
The walls creep up,
And I'm boxing myself in,
So that no moves have to be made,
Because in this game of hearts,
Experience has taught me,
Each move comes at the price of your soul.
