Am I really the person you all think I am?

None of you really know me,

You know merely the person you have created.

Do I not have problems? Insecurities?

Is my only purpose in life to heal the problems of others?

When I talk of my own life, my own pain,

Everyone assumes I'll cope. Everyone except him.

He knows the real me and I dislike it,

I'm sorry to him for I push him away,

Scared of the pain he could so easily cause.

I learnt at a very young age to trust no-one,

To not let anyone too close.

I can't stop him opening me up.

It scares me, and I run.

I don't fight my own fears.

I'm weak.