Poison in my skin

She’s so pretty it scares the crap out of me. She speaks so fine as if every word that jumps from her tongue took a dip in an oasis of poetry before it could reach our threshold of hearing. Her laugh, I try to mimic. But like art in a museum, she had her own tone and signature. And when she walks, her perfect locks bounce in rhythm, bringing commercial ads to life.

She’s so beautiful it scares me.

Because I know what he and I have is as fragile as a snowflake in hell. I know the minute I let the strings snap, he would run as fast as he can, put as much distance on his beating heart from my broken mess. I knew like a fleeting sunset he would go. I told him I was a rose with torns that could rupture his muscle with just a touch of the hand. But he stayed anyway.

You know, loyalty is just a word now. I always feared that when I close my eyes and dream, she would be the angel in his nightmares…wooing him with her gentle songs. I always feared that one day I would look into the mirror and only see every bit of my face that wasn’t her.

But she doesn’t even exist.

You know, insecurity is a poison. It sinks into your veins and makes it up to the brain, clouding our judgment, impairing our ability to delineate the difference between reality and mere speculation. Its like a drug, when taken in excess, results to paranoia. You flip through the pages of ‘what ifs’ and you try to argue for each statement..always building your guard up, even for the people who have proven their worth.

I know, sometimes it makes you feel alert. Insecurity is a defense mechanism but what we don’t realize is that insecurity is a spear with 2 sharp edges. You try to kill of anything that messes with your vision of Utopia, that you don’t realize, you’re stabbing yourself in the process. And by the time you’ve killed all the things you think are gonna mess with you, you’re gonna be drowning in a pool of blood. You would realize the murderer within you.

So maybe this girl im talking about, is just a monster in my head, in the shape of my own skin.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s