THE POISON OF DOUBT

 

The Poison of Doubt

Insecurities slither like serpents,

Coiling through the cracks of my mind,

Their venom seeping into every thought,

Every glance, every word you speak.

They wait in the shadows,

Ready to strike at the smallest provocation,

Their hiss a constant whisper:

You are not enough. You never were.  

My vision blurs, as if through warped glass,

The world around me twists and bends—

Your smile becomes a smirk,

Your kindness a cruel disguise.

Events unfold like scenes from a fevered dream,

Where truth and fiction blur into one,

And I am left chasing ghosts,

Hallucinating on the fumes of my own fear.  

Envy, that green-eyed beast,

Claws its way into my chest,

Feeding on every perceived slight,

Every imagined betrayal.

It warps my judgment,

Turns reason to ash,

And leaves me stranded in a wasteland of doubt,

Where no comfort can take root,

No reassurance can survive.  

Your words, once a balm, now fall on deaf ears,

Each explanation a riddle I cannot solve,

Each promise a puzzle missing its pieces.

I am deaf to the logic that could free me,

Blind to the love that could heal me,

Trapped in a cage of my own making,

Where the bars are forged from the starvation of self-worth.  

You frame me with accusations I cannot escape,

Each one a mirror reflecting my deepest flaws,

Each one a reminder of the void within.

I am a prisoner to my own mind,

Chained to the belief that I am unworthy,

That love is a gift I do not deserve,

And so I push it away,

Even as I crave its warmth.  

These roadblocks rise like mountains,

Impossible to scale, impossible to detour.

They block every path to peace,

Every route to reconciliation.

I am lost in a labyrinth of my own design,

Where every turn leads back to the same dead end,

And the only way out is through a door I cannot find.  

Yet, in the quiet moments, I wonder—

Is this the life I want?

To be ruled by shadows,

To let fear dictate my every move?

There is a part of me that longs for clarity,

For the courage to tear down these walls,

To see you as you are, not as my insecurities paint you.

But that part is small, fragile,

Drowned out by the roar of doubt.  

Perhaps one day, I will break free,

Shed this skin of suspicion,

And stand in the light of truth.

But for now, I remain entangled,

A casualty of my own war,

Watching as the world—and you—

Slip further from my grasp,

Distorted by the lens of my fears.