Identity Crisis

Who am I if I do not have the slightest clue?
I question the intentions of my aspirations,
Wonder how I thought I ever had the strength.
I am my own biggest failure, my own enemy.
Maybe my head was too far into the clouds,
Higher than my paper-thin wings could handle.
I am a little lost boy: unwilling to grow up,
Stuck in some twisted childhood fantasy.
The fall back to reality has been damaging.
Every built up brick now crumbled at my feet.
Heavy tears flow freely as I dig in deeper,
Pouring salt into self-inflicted wounds.
Making excuses for my piss-poor behavior.
I have thought too highly of myself it seems;
Lying to myself in order to save my self image.
Too afraid to face the real version underneath:
The one unsure of most of her true desires,
The one who constantly degrades herself
But continues to place mortar between bricks,
To rebuild on such an unsteady foundation.
But also the one who throws the first stone,
Whose lightning causes the deadly fire.

Despite the painful intensity of my self-hatred
I will pick up those pieces and assemble again.
Until the next wrecking ball swings my way.