My Friend Doubt
I'm the pretty one now
(lies)
The nice one
(lies)
The talented one with a good head on her shoulders
(lies)
And it just makes me sick
All the rifts in my head, the ones that label me as "unhealthy"
The ones that predispose me to all kinds of trouble
The ones that shake my world almost every day with some form of self-doubt
I'm so sorry I can't see myself clearly
I'm so sorry I can't see you, either
I'm sorry I don't understand this world and
I'm sorry I don't believe a thing you say
I'm sorry
I stand, restless, wanting my space from all of you
But never wanting to be alone
I snap every now and then, just to let out my temper for some excercise
But I feel so badly every time I do that most of the time I don't
Every word that falls from your mouth I catch and treasure
But I love them like a small child loves colored glass
"Look, a ruby!"
And everyone nods and smiles indulgently
And to the child, there's no difference
Until she needs to exchange it for something real
And finds that her treasure is a fragile, worthless imitation
Of something priceless
Doubt is becoming my friend
Something I thought I'd never say
I'm glad she sits on my shoulder
Tiny hands clinging to my neck
Whispering in my ear, "Don't believe it. Not about you, not from them, not about us, not from him."
She's probably right, my friend doubt
And if I ever learn to do what she says
...
What then?
Anything?
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