Tag Archives: insecurity

Poetry: Maybe If

Romanticizing is for the birds
And I’m the air they fly through
There was so much I wanted to say, tonight,
But I was too afraid to.

Maybe if I didn’t think through it so much,
Maybe if I had gone ahead and bought the dress,
Maybe if I hadn’t been so nervous,
Maybe if you had given me some assurance.

A friend described you to me once,
And I decided I liked you instantly.
You became a place I went to in my mind
When life wouldn’t stop pushing me.

Maybe I’m overthinking this when you haven’t given me a thought,
Maybe life hasn’t yet given me lessons I need to be taught,
Maybe I’m simply not good enough or not ready yet
Maybe love is rain and you’re not ready to get wet.

I wish you would’ve held my hand,
And put to death my anixety,
You could’ve even said you weren’t interested,
I trust you not to lie to me.

Maybe we had too much in common, but not enough to talk about,
Maybe I built you up too high in my mind, left so much room to doubt,
Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and realize you were just a dream,
Maybe it’ll hit me that you were never meant for me.

By the end of the cup that had been my tea,
There was no clarity on what could produce
Between you and me. But to your credit,
You couldn’t have known I needed any.

Maybe I went crazy and loved someone I’ve never met
Because I knew at least in my head, I couldn’t be hurt, yet
I never really wanted to hang out with you, and that’s the truth.
I just wanted to admire you from afar, to keep you this obtuse.

But I’m just some girl and you’re that guy in the band
With the handsome face and the holdable hands.
The worst part is, you weren’t too good to be true,
You were obviously real, just not really that into

Maybe I’m too much of this and not enough of that,
Maybe you’re too exciting or maybe I’m too fat,
Maybe in another life or on a different day,
Maybe if I had had something impressive to say…


Poetry: Documented Arrival

A Polaroid of forgotten memory sits
on a shelf above my bed. I think
I was five, or maybe four, what’s
most apparent is I am bored.

I am sporting a red shirt and a
checkered vest. Someone else
dressed me. I can only wonder why.

A sheepish grin marks my pale face.
I look irked under my skin, perhaps
thinking, I really don’t like this,
or, get me out of this place.

I look almost alone in this picture,
although I am with five others. An
arm is wrapped around me; It
could only be my mother’s.

I march up from my face to hers.
It looks strange to me, distorted
by too wide a smile, it says she’s
trying too hard on a day full of trials.

There’s someone else in this photo,
She goes by Insecurity. She has me slouched
over while everyone sits up straight.

She requested to stay with me a while,
and I obliged. I asked her to leave
when the cameraman arrived,
but it was much too late.