Insecurities

They are strange; they crawl slowly under your tightly tucked pillow.

They take us to the deepest grave and make us run the fastest in the open meadows.

They are strange; they crawl slowly under your tightly tucked pillow.

They take us to the deepest grave and make us run the fastest in the open meadows. 

No matter how hard we try to mask them or hide them, they start dripping from the sky. 

The dark clouds of doubt will cast their shadows, completely blocking the lights of our windows. 

We strive for ventilation hard and hard. 

Yet we fall to their prey.

They make us suffocate and choke.

But does that mean we give up or find ourselves churned in the insecurities storm?

Every time I try to raise myself against the heavy weight of the grave,

Yet I fall to their prey.

 They force me to think in all pessimistic ways. 

I wish to swallow a fearless pill if at all it can increase my will to raise my voice aloud to them.

Asking them to completely shun and be numb.