My complete lack of self-esteem.
My insecurity in relationships and in myself.
My inability to trust.
My black and white thinking.
My sadness inside my happiness.
The pit in my soul that is never filled.
My hatred of mirrors.
My second guessing of everything and everyone—-
I didn’t choose these things.
They made me. They envelope me.
They consume me.
I camouflage them in smiles and nice things,
hoping no one will notice the bumps and bruises.
But where do they end and I begin?
There are no grays for me—
no in-between moments.
I live in a world of extremes
full of black and white, good and bad, all or nothing.
My heart is either too full or completely empty,
my mind—devoid or in abundance.
No one understands, no one can fathom
the energy it takes each day to stay afloat.
To not lose myself in the depravity and hopelessness,
yet get caught in such overwhelming beauty that it hurts.
I’m up and down, in and out–
enemies with my own mind and soul.
Longing for gray.