The Real Me


How awkward it can be.

Concerned looks,

I feel so uncomfrotable.


HIding in my skin,

I find the real person I am.

And to be honest...

The real me scares me.


The real me is dark.

Witha heart that is stone cold

And fears and insecurities 

that are oh so real.


I feel the glares of disapproval

and the whispers under their breaths.

I know who they are talking about;



What makes me such an interesting topic?

Is it the way I dress?

Or the way I talk?

Maybe it's my attitude.


No matter.

If they actually knew me,

they'd dare not speak my name.

I am a a decietful person.


Someone full of hatred.

Someone fearful of rejection.

and afraid to speak their mind.

So what do I do?


My mind and heart get busy

They get to building a wall

Not to keep those out,

But to wonder if anyone wants to break it down.


Have I found anyone?

Anyone at all who cares?


But for this I can't be certain.


You can never turly know.

Nothing in life is certain.

Why not?

Shouldn't at least something in life be guaranteed?



Life is a mystery.

A quest, even.

To find your true self.


I've found myself,

The real me...

At least, 

I think I have..


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