This Is Not Me

Holding back so much pain and anger,

Livid with life's expectations,

Always trying to be the best I could be,

Demostrating perfection,

Living in a shadow,

Not knowing which road to take because the man named fear is ahead waiting on me.

Crying in silence, trying to keep that beautiful smile on my face,

As so I been told.

From a boy who loves me, 

As so I been told.

Not really knowing if he loves me for me, or who he think he loves.

That question will always remain.

Because as he tells me I'm beautiful, I smile,

I feel love,

I fall in love,

My mistake.

There will always be a better, more beautiful, smarter, and more divine female than me.

So what am I really to him?
Insecurities, assumptions, questions all wander as the more divine female species passes through, in front of both of our eyes.

Who have I become?

I look down as I take a step as far as my legs can stand.

No eye contact during social communications.

As I look down, as I not speak, who have I become?

This is not me.

Trying to make a life, but disappointed with life expectations, because nothing is perfect.

I am not perfect.

I'm told I'm beautiful, over and over again.

I'm told I'm loved, over and over again.

I'm told I make them proud, over and over again.

But I am not perfect.

Looks can be decieveing and numerous of ways.

So who have I become?
The silent cries holds the truth as they all tell me, I'm beautiful, they love me, and I make them proud.