Insecurities

My Insecurities are like jail cells that are made out of glass.

Peering out the window wishing I could be free at last.

My mind is running wild like an untamed child.

My heart is conflicted because it can’t tell the real from the wicked.

My spirit is vexed because it knows I’m being put to a test.

I try so hard to whip my mind but time after time it continues to shine.

I feel blind to myself, a detriment to my health, wanting someone to help but

knowing I have to do this by myself.

I then begin, to travel back in time, to fix the things that broke my mind.

Opening up old wounds is hard to do and to myself I have to be true
all the while hoping that victory will ensue.

Ooh! It’s so hard to fix yourself when it’s so much easier to blame someone else.

Knowledge of self is a shit load of wealth.