I am a fraud,
Someday everyone will echo the never-ending chorus in my head that says,
All you ever do is fuck up.
In my nightmares, I have watched them each says it straight to my face,
And I can’t argue.
I won’t say “you’re being a dick”
I nod and cower.
Because how is it not right?
When have I succeeded with meaning?
How many times do I act without urgency
How often do I speak out of fear?
I am a leech and I am a fraud.
And when you take that out of the way,
I am nothing,
Nothing at all.
I have a proclivity towards vanity
And nothing else.
Always trying to save face,
But never work hard
Unless I’m being watched like a hawk.
Perhaps if I just did, instead of avoided, I could say something to defend myself