watched, critiqued, condemned.
I want to be seen apart from my mistakes and failures.
Why does it seem like others can make mistakes, but not I?
Is it okay for me to fail?
Is it okay for me not to be perfect?
Given the chance, insecurity creeps in,
anxiety holds me back,
fear tells me no.
I reach into the hopelessness of the past,
making that the present.
My future is hidden by despair.
My mistakes are noticed, recorded, perceived.
I cannot break away from them.
I want to grow, to learn, to be liberated.
I want to be me.
