Insecurity
It is a chronic disease
that eats away at my soul
as my weakened mind
allows it to creep into the
crevices of my brain.
It destroys the skin
on my hands and face,
picking at it until it bleeds,
leaving open sores
and patches of raw flesh
that scab over
only to be torn open again.
It infiltrates my
defense mechanisms,
distorting perception
until my sense of rationality
dangerously melts into
irrational territory.
I unknowingly cross over
into a place where my thoughts
become mutated in the thick saturation
of insecurity,
and the contents of my brain
slowly begin to liquify.
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