What's the point?

How would you know that I'm weaker than I've ever been before, when I yet seem to be so strong. 
Fighting every second of my day against demons that hide inside of myself. 
Loosing a bit more every step of the way. It's not easy to fight against yourself when fighting means winning and destroying yourself.
Nobody knows what it feels to be so insecure that it makes you cry to even think about yourself.
Constantly scared of having flaws. Constantly haunted by thoughts that someone might be thinking. 
The more I try the less it's working.
Every blush, every wrong word, every mistaken thing is a confirmation of my failure.
Don't even look at me, it kills me a bit more.
I'm scared to laugh, scared to talk .. Scared to live.
What's the point in winning when your worst enemy is yourself. 

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