Perceptions

I wonder what people see when they look at me.

Do they see an angel with horns

Or a demon with a halo

Which is closer to the real me?

I make a choice

It could be right

Or it could also be

A product of 

Overthinking

Overanalysing

Placing myself on a pedestal

That no one else sees.

Maybe I’m too harsh on myself

And I don’t see how

The glow from my halo

Outshines my black flames

But people only hear what leaves my mouth

They don’t hear what’s

Trapped in all my filters.

So maybe we are our own worst critics

But everyone else is working

With propaganda.


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Busybody
Poetry
Free Verse
writing Busybody
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