There's something about sadness that makes you turn to writing. Perhaps the total loss of hope, the bewilderment of not knowing who to turn to. The craving of attention that's a silent cry of help; remind me who I am. Tell me my worth, show me I am deserving of love.
There's a difference between knowing and feeling. For the most part, I need no validation from society, yet for brutal honesty's sake, I do too. I want to be told it's not true. Not a failure. Not worthless. Worth fighting for. Smart. Fun. Cute. Intelligent. Successful. Inspiration. Just nice. Heart in the right place. It's not true. It's not true. It's not true.
Lost in the seams of insecurity, I try to find myself. Some days with a firm grasp, other days mellowing in self doubt. No need to seem coherent. Your praise is no longer enough. Beyond broken, you'll only cut yourself if you try to help. Keep away. İm just another fake.
You're beautiful in and out. Witty. Funny. Good hearted. Is that validation enough? Because I don't mean for it to be so only. This is some of the beautiful truth about a person who has my name as the second yet hidden part of hers and who I hope one day will get the happiness she deserves.
ReplyDeleteIs there enough love in this comment? If not,
Love you loads <3