Raw Insecurities

When insecurities are all we have left, who really knows you anyways.

It's a funny thing really. 

We question ourselves so many times that 

answers seem noexistent. 

I have my insecurities:

 I'm socially awkward,

 people say i'm too naive, 

I don't like my thighs, stomach, or arms.

 But should I ever question my worth 

without a clinical diagnosis to go with that verdict? 

No, says society, you should be constant in your mood: 

You're the happy one after all, you with 

your bright colors and overalls, 

you're the sappy one of us. 

But do they know that at night darkness

sometimes kills my bright colors? 

And I envy the couple sitting by that apple tree, 

those unnerving happy lovers, 

when all I've got at home are crappy flowers 

that rot in the wake of a legend who once was, but never is there

I sing love songs for those lovers by day,

but come night and I throw dark rock at Love

Because, above all else, Love has scorned me

Blown me to bits because dreaming of Love

Isn't Actual Love

I'm not always Strong

Sometimes, even I get the answer to Life wrong

Sometimes, I am struck by a knife of Want so long

that it drags me through the Dust of Those Who Don't Belong

This is my heart on my sleeve, this is Raw Me

Isn't it funny? The one you thought you knew so well,

Now screaming in the face of Lucifer

Nice to meet you too. 

Author's Note

It does not have a consistent rhyme scheme for a reason.