Fear Of Being Me

Maybe I’m not well or good enough to breathe 

Haunted by the fear of being me

When I look back I see wreckage mixed with large amounts of debris 

Yesterday I felt alive without being judged inside by the outside inside 

Yesterday I felt worthy of living now sometimes I’m not sure

Far from pure who told me lies I believed currently believe 

Throw important parts of myself away cannot be retrieved 

Even when I fought religious battles on knees 

Still ended up with a horrible fear of being me. 


A soundtrack playing lyrics blaring waste of space 

Twenty four news stations broadcasting past mistakes 

Poems allow for some comfort I empty my tank 

Dream of living how I want to if money stayed within my bank 

In the meantime work is earning enough money to come back another week 

Speaking up sounded important however these days I just want eight hours of sleep 

Denied there too

Fear of being me I hide to wipe tears off my shoes 

Living through motions a name buried loose unglued 

Fear of wasting time walking in the wrong direction 

Still standing without applying myself a bystander to my own reflection 

What do you think I see 

A fear of being me. 


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