Every room I enter feels like a stage, and I’m the actor that forgets the lines 
The constriction gnawing in my throat as I feel the acid burn 
I see their faces alight with joy, reeling in echoes of my defeat 
I bat my eyes, look to the floor with crumbling hands, the nails bitten off 
If only I could peel away the skin of doubt and wear something lighter
Tear away the facade of perfection to veiled defeat
And if confidence is a flame, mine is a flicker in the wind 
Everytime I measure up my worth in the shadow of others, I still end up short 
Good for nothing? 
It drums in my ears, a stale truth I’ve heard and been fed into all my life but the feeling of emptiness perpetuates. 
Tribulations; Their faces stain my mind- silhouettes of chagrin 
My flowers have now thorns, pricking my veins as I bleed profusely 
I do nothing to fix the wound as my blood seeps through the carpet 
They aren’t mine to own, the scars I wear; carved by the hands of those too ignorant to care 

-Aditi