Insecurity

She was insecure. It was not her name, but the facade hiding behind the mask what I am talking about.

Always confident. Yes, she was! But try telling this to her weak heart which bursted open with tears of emotions everytime someone poked a joke on her.

The two indents of dimple always working their magic. The magic of appreciation and the magic of faking. Ask those lines which turn into a curve, why they tremble everytime?

Every soul lives in their own house of a body, but hers was being shared. A soulmate lived with her soul, an abusive one, who was eating her away day by day. Acting upon his name, insecurity did destroyed her from inside.

She was a pillar with emptiness and now, a house without a true soul. She was a construction with weak layout, waiting for an earthquake to bring her down.

It is not only her, but that guy over too, who faces this destruction everyday. Not only you but me too.

Insecurity is a part of us, varying from how much dominance we give it.

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