• fireblast_ 12w

    S O C I A L A N X I E T Y

    I haven't done anything wrong, but I'm guilty. I'm guilty of breathing, of taking extra space at the bus station, of eating more than others at the family gathering, I'm guilty of picking the prettiest dress and still feeling insecure when a group of more pretty girls shows up. I can't stop thinking that I know a lot about science and psychology, but I'll forever remain a dumb kid who seems to forget every word of her mother language when someone asks her a question. I'm guilty for reaching college a little late and having everyone's eyes fixed on me when I enter, I'm guilty for feeling that every whisper is about me. I'm guilty for watching people cry and not having enough courage to hold their hands or hug them tightly. I'm guilty for feeling that everything I create is incomplete.

    Some nights I can't stop thinking that nobody knows my favourite colour or that one song that always makes me cry. Maybe there's no way out, but I don't know what to do with the hunger in my eyes for things my body wouldn't allow me to be in love with. To have someone who asks the questions, and I answer, unapologetically, recklessly. To write and be written about.