insecure
Learn more about other poetry terms
Roses are red violets are blue when i look in the mirror i wish i look like you
i stare in the mirror for about an hour and a half i hate the view
i stare and start thinking of you
wishing i was just like you
It’s all about the presentation.
The way you present your poetry can make or break the poem.
A poem written by a below-average 4 year old can sound beautiful coming out of your mouth.
The stairs
The looks
The blank expressions.
I feel the eyes on me,
I feel watched,
I feel judged,
I feel scared,
I feel silly,
I feel paranoid
No matter how many times I tell myself not to, I can't stop myself from watching it,
And everytime I do, I am always left feeling like my heart took a hit.
I live in a castle upon a hill.
Well, at least that’s what I thought.
I actually live in a beat up hut upon a hill.
Everyone constantly looking up at me,
Sometimes it's hard to admit it, but sometimes you need to accept defeat,
And that the future that you thought you were heading towards ends up not being so sweet.
Sometimes it's hard to admit it, but sometimes you need to accept defeat,
And that the future that you thought you were heading towards ends up not being so sweet.
Insecurity
Wont leave my mind
Words appear
Like paragraphs on train tracks
Rushing by
Creating imagery
Of past memories
Poor ugly little girl
burn your lips with perfume
you mistaked as lipgloss
Poor naive little girl
just because he said
how beautiful you were
you have him the key
to your now
broken
look in the mirror
can't help but see someone
who feels such terror
they'll be loved by no one
study my reflection
I find nothing attractive
crooked complexion
When you wake up in the morning what do you see
Gourmet style breakfast or a flatscreen tv?
When you see your reflection
Is it really perfection
When you wake up in the morning what do you see
Gourmet style breakfast or a flatscreen tv?
When you see your reflection
Is it really perfection
‘Why do you care so much?’
asked the boy with a Pepsi
clasped in his hands, which
was previously deemed
lesser to Coke
in a strange conversation
at eleven thirty-two
I look in the mirror
Reflecting back
I don't like what I see
Group of girls besides me
Looking pretty
Why can't that be me?
They try to reassure me
I see the lies through their teeth
My heart is heavy asking will I ever
be good enough for myself.
When I look at myself why do I peer through
my reflection like it’s nothing?
Like I am nothing.
Even when I say I am good enough and
A bird with a broken wing
Its memory of greatness;
A stretched canvas of warm embrace
Air cut by swift blades of persistence
Unobtainable freedom by many,
While the few idolize their grasp of identity:
Oh my heavy heart
Racing heart
Defeated heart.
Knees weak
Eyes bleak
And oh how desperately I seek,
Mirrors would always tell the ugliest truths
Reflection found in front face camera or frankly placed in front of bathroom sink faucets fed the unacceptable attributes
Unallowing any filter or photoshop on face or body
Sometimes it's euphoric
Drunk with pride and confidence
On my high horse
Looking staright ahead
Other times a 180 turn occurs
Hell on my mind
It's dark, I'm timid
Sometimes it's euphoric
Drunk with pride and confidence
On my high horse
Looking staright ahead
Other times a 180 turn occurs
Hell on my mind
It's dark, I'm timid
Insecure souls,Walking on their own dead bodies,Emotionless,
coz they don't care, even less,
my head is filled with thoughts of i'll never be good enough of i will never be as beautiful as the model on the magazine covers i always see.
Dear Inner Me,
Why do you hold back?
Your thoughts,
Your words,
Your opinions,
Away from view?
Sitting on a fence,
Uncomfortable,
Unable to express.
To feel anything,
You.
My biggest enemy,
Me.
Always tearing myself down
Covering myself with layers upon layers of,
"Perfection".
A mask to hide the demise of my courage, my confidance.
That word..
Driving by the bar, we looked out the window.
Three discarded pumpkins bobbed in the stream.
I looked at my brother--five weeks after Halloween.
You show me who I am
And more importantly who I’m not.
You show me what I don’t have
More often than what I’ve got.
He thought he could chain me
He thought he could,
Would,
Should,
Break me.
Little did he know,
I've got chains and scars of my own.
Of my own doing,
They were.
Each little scar,
imperfection is a pimple.
an irregularity, red and raised
in the middle of your face when you are 11
to you it is unfamiliar
so you buy concealer
Surrounded by laughs and smiles While I just listenOnly my ears are openSealed lips shut Words can’t be spoken
INSECURE
behind a safe face
hiding behind humor
hope you all laugh
laugh outside, inside who knows
look to the left
dont look me in the eyes
look away
cant see you today
Why does he give me false hope?
Why did he say “I Love You?”
Why does he make me feel not good enough?
Can’t he see I’m fragile?
How beautiful it is
To live everyday breathing the warm/cold air of mother nature
I find it fascinating how we simply are living.
Look at those trees; so tall ,with many years
Tired of imaginingTired of actingOh, how I wish that was meCat-fishingIs now existingMirror, mirrorWhat is my birth error?Is it my looks or personality?A shame that I desire plastic surgery
At the start,
She was kind, beautiful, free.
She was individual, unique
Better than she’d ever been.
Then, near the middle,
And more towards the end
Her self image began to bend
And bend
They ask why you're so quiet
It's because you have nothing to say
But with that they won't buy it
You just want them to go away
You can speak colorful words
Over the white noise that you hear
The only lying I would do is in the bed with you at my side.I thought we had a love to last forever and your heart was trying to hide.I let you penetrate my mind but you were looking for more.
She walks with her head held high,
Without fear of the future,
Letting the insults and rude comments,
Brush off her shoulder like a child going down a slide.
She glides,
She waltzes,
Sitting at lunch among my group of friends
All of them, laughing until their hearts content
Their smiles so bright it seems they never witnessed hardship
She looks in the mirror and what does she see?
A girl with a lot of insecurity
Her thighs feel thick and her stomach feels fat
and she believes nothing will ever change that
Can anyone love me?
Would anybody be willing to withstand
My horrible insecurity,
The side of me I hide?
Would you be willing to tell me
It will be alright,
When you know I don't believe you?
Heavy once again
Sorrow permanently
Permeating
Penetrating
Over and over
The insecurities
Stab like darts
Tears well up
Out of nowhere
Leaking and spilling
I see all of these poems,
Lengthy,
Tall.
But they win.
They get all of the Scholarships.
And I write short poems.
Simple,
They take up one page, max.
Is my style too short?
I am numb to the words in my head all the time,
But I'm still feeling lost and lonely inside,
My friends can have fun and live their own lives,
While I'm stuck in the mirror feeling broken inside,
Yes, I know I am tall, yes I am over six feet. The truth is that the air up here is no better than the air down there. The air up here is still plagued by pollutants and marinated in a pool of empty dreams.
I sit there in silence,
Alone in the dark,
Listening to the soft hum
Of the words that float around
In a familiar and gentle sound.
Staring at the empty room before me,
Wondering where I went wrong.
she doesn't talk about how her dad leftimmediately after finding outabout her existenceshe doesn't talk abouthow her mom ignoredthe not so straight lines on her wristshow she was never confronted
This is a curse not a gift So what is my mission this is a skin condition Not one of my ambitionSo now here's your time to listen When people look at meand ask me what is on your arm I change the subject they should find some respect Not try
"More, more" they say, "More, more."
These voices won't stop.
This emptiness won't be filled enough.
"More, more." These voices continue to say, "More, more."
More of what?
More friends.
More money.
Take the picture.
Too high.
Too low.
Just right.
But what's wrong?
Your nose is too big,
Your smile looks weird,
And your hair looks bad.
Take it again.
And again.
People always make analogies
Saying birds are free; they want to be birds.
What is a bird? Nothing more than hair.
My mind is my gift
I use it everyday
From making good decisions
To deciding what videogame to play
Though being on Honor Roll
and seeing the world in a diffrent way
Slumber. Crema. Ludwig. Aden. Perputa. Amaro. Mayfair. Rise. Hudson. Valencia. X-Pro ll. Sierra. Willow. Lo-Fi. Earlybird. Brannan. Inkwell. Hefe. Nashville
Look, look at me
note what you see.
A smile sweet,
Small blue eyes,
Which cannot meet
Your steady gaze.
Do you, do you know
My efforts to show
Confidence?
"Who is that?" you ask as you stare her way.
shes changed so much.
"Why is she like that?" you wonder everyday.
"Look at her stomach!" You say, grossed out.
She hates herself
No one hears you crying when you're suffering in silence,
Covering your mouth, doing all you can to hide it.
I know you're not going to last long, trying so hard to fight it.
You ask me how I know?
I am not too funny
Not delightfully clever
I am not beautiful,
Being that my face does not inspire poems or ballads
My tall lanky frame is not the object of envy
When I walk into a room no one stops and stares
Lure them in with your evanescent gleam.
Bind them into your eternal paradise.
Throw their hypnotic nothings to the wind.
Craft velvet wings from jewels.
Your primrose shimmer must never dull.
Is my nature free?
I will not laugh nor shout
And engulf in reverie
And then I say I am the sea
The moon the glowing orb
Is a friend to some but not the swirling sea
Who am I?
The one cowering on the floor as the crowd walks by
Fear rips through my body
The anxiety tears at my heart with its needle-sharp nails
My breathing increases as my attack starts
You see a teenager. Day to day, smiling awkwardly at those who pass.I see a little girl. Sitting all alone, trying to hide her face from those who look upon her.You see a senior, attending classes, not paying attention.
I am tall
I am short
I am fat
I am skinny
I am depressed
I am black
I am white
I am foreign
I am bald
I am rich
I am poor
I am strong
I am weak
If I pull back the curtain
Will my mask then accept the form of mannequins
Perfectly styled and positioned
Only showing the best I can offer?
Will my true self remain hidden in the shadows
Cocooned.
Trapped
in lucid pristine existence.
Sheltered,
Hidden,
from troublesome reality.
Delicate wings,
You stretch them to fly,
but ensnared by the inexperience,
Theres two of us hereOr maybe threeI don’t know anymoreI stopped knowing a long time ago.
Or was it recent.But it doesn’t matter because theres not just one.Thats bad.Right?
Girls like her, they don’t feel.
That’s what you tell yourself.
Vicious is how one would describe your words.
But that doesn’t stop you from typing them out.
Without blinking you press enter.
I want to hide right now, and never come out. I want to cry a river, quietly. I don't know what to do, and I don't know what to say. I'm just sitting here, looking around and feeling alone, like a loser.
I smile in the mirror,
I see something wrong.
I have pimples,
My hair is damaged,
My mouth is too long.
I say to myself:
You're ugly,
You're not loved.
But I heard much different,
It’s all gone.
You took everything from me.
(Or did I take everything myself)
My family, my friends… They slipped away.
Vanished.
Under your mind games. You cost me my life.
My future.
Are you different?
Are you alone?
I know my answer.
Are you a clone?
Life isn't fair,
Just another tragedy.
In which losing
Is the only strategy.
The media controls how beauty is defined,
He may be a follower, or he may be left behind.
I give you the test, the one that tells in time,
How you may be judged, or aren't right in the mind.
The sky is clear, but in this cage it is hard to notice. This cage that constricts me from seeing beyond the bars is unbearable, and I am unable to set myself free.
All of my insecurities
sprout from flakes of old skin;
they beg for the sunlight’s attention
from underneath my quieting hands
so that they might bloom
and become a loud thing
for all to hear.
I tricked him.
I tricked him into thinking he loved me.
No man would have been able to love me based on his own accord.
I tricked him.
