Monday, 21 March 2011

Self Conscious

I know it's not right,
But all I seem to do is fight, fight, fight.

Putting up with being me,
Is a daily chore which it shouldn't be...
I wish I could like myself, the way I am,
But right now I couldn't give a damn.

It's not just my appearance which gives me a fright,
It's who I am which makes me bite.

No one seems to understand,
That what I think of me can't be changed
By a few compliments - which is strange.

Shopping is a nightmare,
I try on clothes and people glare!
Although, they don't really - it's all in my head,
Much like a dream minus the bed.

My bed is a haven where I should feel secure,
However it's not and I feel so immature!
In my sleep there'll always be,
A horrid creature which I call me...

As much as people say it's all in my head,
All I seem to do is dread, dread, dread.
Dread being me,
Dread who I be,
Dread what I'll see,
In that mirror because it's not me-
Not the real me anyway,
I feel my subconscious has lead me astray...

I wasn't always like this you probably can tell,
But for me, its hard to break the spell.
The word 'curse' is more suited,
To this feeling of being muted...

I hope that one day,
This feeling will pass,
And that I can be me-
The true one at last!

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