I don’t even tell myself,
Like if I have a mental illness,
Or worry too much about my health.
I wish that I could talk more,
Honestly I do,
But every time I try,
I just end up staring at you.
When I think of opening up,
It makes me kind of scared,
That I might reveal things to myself,
That I never even dared,
Give credence to,
Or tried to understand,
But these things are what makes me me,
And these things are never planned,
So I need to sit and talk with myself,
Accept this is me,
Then I can move forward,
And become who I want to be.