Insecurities

By Shania Jayasekera

When I hear, feel, and see my surroundings, they all look so

perfect.

Perfect...

Perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect body, perfect personality...they got the golden bag

why can’t I be like them? I want the golden bag, I don’t want this, red thorned bag, I want that! I

want it...I want it

But I can’t.

Sky rocking in academics while I struggle, continually spitting my eyes out, my hands shaking

with frustration, an information I don’t understand

A beautified truth of love while I burn in my own 2 fires, trying to keep a heart warm

A soft, quiet, swan filled persona...while a loud hyena wails out in a distance, everyone running

away quietly

All I see, is what I should be

My own self persona agrees with me

I want it, I want that.