Its not you, its me.
It is deep-rooted insecurity. Fears and doubts that hide in the corners of my heart so dark, I forget that they exist. They turn my blood cold in rivers beneath my skin, traveling the same worn paths. They create endless circles of chases that flood my sleep in doses of grey, slithering across my wrists and ankles, anchoring me to my own anxieties.
I spend so much time tracing the scars of your betrayal left on my back, that I think I forget to remember who I am really fighting. It is the mirror. I should break my reflection and let the shards of glass fall to my bruised feet.
No comments:
Post a Comment