I have many insecurities. Too many. People call me afraid when I refuse to go into class. People call me a cry-baby because I bawl every time someone says anything about me.
I feel like everyone is judging me, watching with their insensitive eyes and making me sink back into the darkness that is fear. I can see when they hide behind their unclean hands that they are saying unclean words. The crime that is lying.
I am also unclean, and I fear that if I try to wash my wrongs away there will be nothing left but a creature that knows only fear of evil and not how to deal with it. I believe there are no options and humans are creating them as an excuse to find easy ways out and give false hope to people like me.
I cannot face love, since so many have already been broken and I don’t want that. I am cracked enough. People can’t get close to me otherwise I will bruise and bleed. My blood doesn’t clot and the wounds that run my body are invisible but I know they are there. I feel them.
I don’t feel like crying but the tears flow anyway. When they shove me and grab at me trying to push and pull me into the day when they know the sun burns me. I cry to protect myself from the harming rays but I know that they pierce through the water.
I am being swallowed every day. I could stay in my bed but I don’t like the window that shows me what the outside looks like. I could move it from the window but that could break the floor and I would fall back down into the abyss of pain and agony again and I don’t stop falling.
If I keep the door open something could watch me from around the doorframe and enter this cold room to rip me back into the torture of talking with my mouth full of blades that stab into my tongue and twist it into words that not even I understand. If I close the door I would be trapped with the demons that hide under my bed that would reach up and slowly consume me as their body is in fact the bed.
I could seek help but my hands and feet feel chained to the ground and my face is covered in bandages. They wrap around my body too. They squeeze me so tightly that I suffocate and all my organs are crushed and I am no longer able to function like a human.
I have insecurities. Too many insecurities. To you they may be irrational. But to me they control my life. A life that I am too scared to live.
Ok this isn't my first piece. It's just the first I've put up. So yeah, you can say watever. Be vicious if you want (-__-).