“You’re gonna fuck up.”

“You're gonna fuck up.”

The voice repeats inside my head as I stare at you.

Iʼm sure I'll say the wrong thing and we'll instantly be through.

I am over analyzing every evidence I have that you may not like me.

But thatʼs just my brain corrupting how I interpret things and see.

I just know I've messed up so much before with people who mattered far less

So please excuse me as I scream and cry because I am under a lot of stress.

Stress that I am not good enough, stress I never will be good enough

Stress because thinking Iʼm even close to lovable has become very tough.