when everything is overrated.

sometimes, I let anxiety consume me.

anticipating bitter cold,

when I could still bask in the warmth.

sometimes, I am confused,

why the need to please others

&the need to please ourselves.

sometimes, I wonder,

what is real & what's not.

whether beneath those cheshire smiles,

lies a sinister heart.

sometimes,

sometimes,

it's best I keep my hands to myself.

yet,

I still question my own significance.