Insecurity

There is something about humans

Who are so unapologetically themselves.

So at home in their own skin

Unperturbed by others’ opinions.

They speak with effortless eloquence;

Their demeanor radiates confidence.

When I meet such rare specimens

I fall, almost immediately.

Sometimes, they notice me.

But my words escape as a whisper

Of myself, I am only a sliver.

They usually notice

Before I try to insist:

I was not always like this.

And as assuredly as they appeared,

They depart;

And I am left with more fragments

Of myself to pick apart.

 

 

 

 

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