Conflict On My Insides


Sometimes I hate my ways,

Like my mind, the way it jumps,

Out of fear, to conclusions or to the end,

Like an imaginary foresight,

I know nothing of the future for sure,

But I feel so certain of my dilusions,

Why can't I see that nothing is wrong,

Instead of all the things that couldn't be right,

I feel stupid when I find myself,

Questioning the way she says I love you,

So long as she loves me I'm just fine.

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