I’m unsure of myself.
I’m scared of what others might think.
I used to be a bold tiger,
But now I’m just a slug.
I consider myself a human
And sure, that means I’ve got a soul,
But oftentimes I question
what that means
And for what and what for.
I’m unsure of who I was.
Memory doesn’t serve me right,
In fact, it doesn’t serve me at all-
I struggle with the simple recalls
And mocked when sand resurfaces.
I’m unsure. I’m unsure. I’m unsure.
I’m secure in the fact that with closure
I’ll figure it out.
It’ll take time, but for now
I think that surety is something
I’ll dream about and hope for
Until I am sure.
Join 239 other followers