“You’re not good enough.”
That little voice peeps out
From underneath the filthy rug
I’ve been using to hide those insecurities
Ever since the last time they pulled me to the ground.
“You’re an imposter, a poser, a sham.”
That chant hums and rings
Growing louder from behind the curtain
I’ve already chose to shut
To keep these miserable monsters
From making me hide, run, or scream.
“You’re efforts are all going to be in vain.”
The inner accusations
Grow tall and begin to loom
Over my every thought
As I try to lay these worries back in place.
“They don’t like what you’ve done; no, they don’t like you.”
The harsh whispers rise to shouts
As I see a shaky house
I built upon my own anxieties
Releasing my psychic monsters
To fill this room with terror
Until I muster the courage to kick them all back out.
— Written by Sandy Heights
Image by Michael Gaida from Pixabay
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