I am not confidente

I know I am smart, but not in the ways that count.

I read people much better than books but I never

Have the words to explain my findings.

I’m only as funny as I feel,

And I do not think I’m pretty.

I sometimes walk with my head down.

My posture is terrible.

I think horrible things about people and I let

My emotions get the best of me.

I’m really not as nice as I’d like to be,

Or as innocent as you’d think I am.

I am a perfectionist.

I am a contradiction to everything I want to stand for.

I am really no good at all on my own.

But I am analytical with myself.

And I don’t understand how anyone could ever be cocky

Or proud when they are aware of all the disgusting things

That they think and do, but no one knows.

We’re all broken enough to be humble.

Paprika