Tiny little stretches, just a little slant,
Little seeds of scepticism you feel the need to plant,
Small exaggerations, just enough to count
Towards the insecurities I’m struggling to mount.
Minute magnifications, almost truths (not lies)
To shake my faithful confidence and cause me to despise.
Anecdotes elaborated, stories told abridged
But I won’t worry overly, for Karma is a bitch.