Honestly? Insecure. *facepalm*

Sitting in the dark at night,
I lie awake, my thoughts swirling too fast to stop,
Or to sleep.
My insecurities,
Smashing me with blows like these,
“What if he don’t like what he see?
What if I’m not everything he thought I would be?
What if, given the chance,
To see who I am for me,
In reality,
What if he don’t like what I am?”
I mean let’s face it,
I know I’m messed up.
I know I’ve been abused,
And I’m just second-rate,
And I know that I might act all cool
Under the mask of the internet.
But what if who I really am
Isn’t what he was out to get?
What if, what if,
He only loves
Who he might’ve thought I was?

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