Back in the Day

Ha, must I mock myself and be my own worst enemy?
With the feeling of fleeting love I often flee;
Hovering over my own coldness and sets of clouds
I try to pretend to myself that I can be proud.
The unsettling certainty that is my life
Blasts my happiness away and makes me ill.
Uncomfortable with my reactions, lost in my own skin,
Waiting for something I don't know; whatever will happen?
Hunger is replaced with the yearning of my soul
and I tend to fool myself and pretend to be in control.
Such a waste that I cannot express myself at times
and feel free to live how I ought without fear.
I'm no psychic but things always end the same;
I need to grow up and stop treating life as a game.
So... What am I so afraid of?!