they tell me empty pages have substance so why should i waste my ink when there's already affirmation in my hands

they're full like my head that wants to vomit on the page but i'm afraid of being sick and too content with feeling safe

my soul is too weak for critique of its contents but if the world can't feel it's weight then i will never be content

just covetous of the fearless and their success
feeling sorry for myself instead of taking steps to be at my best

oh god i'm just a fraud