When people are crass or loudmouthed, it’s not because they don’t give a damn. It’s from fear and insecurity. By Patty Jenkins

Insecurity is the side effect of loving (or giving) too much and receiving too little.

The most introspective of souls are often those that have been hurt the most. By Shannon L. Alder

Ariel: “Why do such stories always sound so sad? Why can’t people part on more amiable terms?”
Danny: “Human nature,” he said. “When feelings change and a person is at their most insecure, it’s a matter of personal survival, I think. It’s not always meant to hurt, but it often does.

Judith-Victoria Douglas, Ariel’s Cottage

Maybe it’s for the best.
Maybe it’s for the worst.
Maybe it’s not the last time.
Maybe it’s forever.

Maybe I am used to it.
Maybe it’s because you are with me.
Maybe I have lost a track of time.
Maybe the time was never mine.

Maybe it’s a game for you.
Maybe I was yet to be played by you.
Maybe you were the playwright.
Maybe this stage wasn’t mine.
Maybe the role wasn’t meant for me.
Maybe I got played another time.
Maybe it’s just you and me.

Maybe I question too much coz m curious.
Maybe it’s anxiety not my curiosity.
Maybe it’s just me and my insecurities.
Maybe it’s betrayal hidden in love.
Maybe it’s the tiny needles that cut a little too much.
Maybe because you don’t say too much

Maybe you are right.
Maybe I am that blind.
Maybe I need bigger glasses.
Maybe I need something bigger to hide behind.
Maybe it’s just my fear.
Maybe it’s because of you my dear.
Maybe this was what I deserved.
Maybe it wasn’t meant to hurt.
Maybe I am not looking at the brighter side.
Maybe it’s elating and I am out of emotions.
Maybe it’s all a facade.

Maybe I won’t go back.
Maybe I’ll give it another try, to fall in their trap.
Maybe it’s not a trap.
Maybe it’s meant to be.
Maybe it’s just you and me.

Maybe their swords weren’t as sweet as their tongues.
Maybe it didn’t hurt too much.
Maybe my soul had already been dead.
Maybe it’s still alive to be slaughtered.
Maybe their masks weren’t real.
Maybe I have just gone berserk.

Maybe they loved me.
Maybe that was their part.
Maybe their truths were straight lies.
Maybe it’s what ths real world is like.
Maybe that smile is plastic.
Maybe I am hallucinating.
Maybe I expect too much.
Maybe I just think too much.
Maybe it’s real…

Maybe that bush of thorns is full of roses and I am a certified blind.
Maybe nothing is real at all. Would you mind helping me find out, if I am right or wrong?!

Maybe they’ll glorify me before the curtains fall.
Maybe it’s the calm before the calamity falls upon my worn out shoulders.
Maybe it won’t ruin it all.
Maybe this time I’ll be happy for sure.
Maybe I should wait a little. longer for the curtains to rise and see it all.
Maybe the truth would enlighten souls of all sorts.
Maybe someone would applaud.
Maybe they’ll run away.
Maybe they’ll just hug me.
Maybe they’ll backstab me or just let me down .
Maybe they’ll ask forgiveness and do the same thing again.
Maybe this time they won’t take me for granted, well… let’s just say they won’t.
Maybe they’ll love me, accept me.
Ha! That seems to be false!

Maybe everything is fine.
Maybe it’s a figment of imagination of mine.
Maybe or it might be…but the pain is real!

– Priya Bhatnagar ©