I used to make myself feel pretty.
Now I'm depending on someone else to
Validate my beauty.
Comparing myself to the last and the next,
Insecure in my own sex, feeling worthless
To the bone, a stranger in my own home,
Immune to the flaws that continue to grow,
Its cold when you're alone,
Wishing to be someone else, someone that already was
Somone I will never be,
And I know that she creeps into your mind when you look at me
I can feel it when you're kissing me
You're lips longing for another, causing my heart to think irrationally
Settling for what I think I deserve,
And even though it hurts, I work twice as hard to keep what was hers
The scars never show from the inside but they burn and I've heard it a million times
"You have to know your own worth",
but fuck its hard
when there's always someone else there stealing your words,
Concealing the urge to cry in front of you.
The tears have left permanent trails,they know their way down my cheeks,
and I am missing too many pieces to even begin to feel complete,
but I do know this feeling of insecurity; it is nothing unusual,
but still sometimes I just miss feeling,
*Back to meloncholy. Lovely.
The New Book Is Out In The Wild
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