Honest Poem (My Version)

I have a good speaking voice,
but with a self-confidence you can find 6-feet underground.
I talk a lot when I'm with my friends,
but can't find a word to say in front of a girl I like.
If I try to strike a conversation with her,
I begin to stutter and eat all the words as if there is a scarcity of it.

I like pizza and sleeping.
I know they don't go together, but first, who doesn't like pizza?
And second, although I like sleeping, it's the thing I'm most deprived of... aside from proper body mass.
It's obvious how skinny I am,
But why does skinny jeans make me look dumb?
I work eight hours a day, but can't seem to find the right position for me to sleep properly when I'm at home.
Or maybe, I'm just too afraid that when I sleep my nightmares will haunt me and will consume my entirety never to wake up again.
Or maybe, I'm scared of waking up and be back to this nightmare of a reality, where people whom I would take a bullet for are the ones holding the gun.
I honestly don't know which I am most frightened of, the nightmares I get when I sleep, or the nightmare of a reality I'm currently stuck in.

Unlike other people, I hate traveling.
Traveling just makes me feel tired and I don't want to tire my body for something I hate doing.
I play a lot of video games,
Because video games take me to a make-believe reality.
A temporary escape from this reality, where chicks dig assholes and friendzone nice guys. --Shout out to you nice guys out there.

I spent five years in the seminary, but had to leave because it was the right thing to do.
I had a girlfriend when I was there.
I never laid a hand on her, but her heart was bruised by every punch that she had to bear with every minute I was in the seminary.
My mom taught me never to hurt a girl.
Not because their heart is vulnerable,
But because women aren't toys that you just can set aside anytime you're done playing with them.
I take care of women just like my mom took care of me.
With respect, decency, and with all honesty.

My name is Arcy.
I was born on the year of the rat,
And I honestly don't give a fuck what that means.
Just like Rudy, I've been trying to convince my shadow that I'm someone worth following and have been hiding through metaphors.
I've said a lot about me, but please don't judge me.
Those things are crumbs of who I really am.
I just turned 30, another reason to celebrate the gift of life.
I say it's a gift because it was gratuitously given to me, not because I asked for it, nor earned it like a reward, nor do I deserve it.
I may have moral and political right to life, but I do not have a metaphysical right to it.
I cannot demand that I deserve the right to come into being or to deserve to exist for another day.
It was given to me freely by a higher Being whom I call my God.

*Inspired by Rudy Francisco's My Honest Poem.