in your hands

Just when i think i'm rising above it all, that i'm shedding the skin of insecurity and obsession, it comes back. Like a candle flickering in the darkness. The paranoia, the anxiety, the craving for perfection. I know i should burn all my magazines, rip up all my obcessive lists, but i can't. i enjoy it all too much. The feeling of being in control, the confidence that comes with being empty and flawless. Of sizing up everyone around me and gloating inwardly when i come out on top. It's horrific, but i can't escape it. So many times i've pushed it behind me. Because the feelings of confidence, the feelings of happiness? they're fleeting. So so so so so fleeting. So fleeting that they might as well never have existed. In it's place are insecurities and misery. A down spiral into depression and self loathing. But it's all i've got. Skin stretched over bones, endless hours of nothing but tears. So for now, this is what i'll stand for.