Scared of affection, I strive to be perfect. Wondering what people really think of me. Casting my cares on what seems to be an unforgiving page. Written with ink and blood, I face the world. Unable to match their selfish demands, I march faithfully to the door . . . Do I enter? NO! For fear of rejection, I turn away. Carelessly throwing away any opportunities I may have had. The worst part being how I am so blissfully unaware of what im doing. What ive done. Why under pressure I crumble. What do I have to prove? What is it that I feel I need from others SO BAD, that I am willing to risk my life, and others, to get it?
The Unforgiving Self Being . . .
January 6, 2010