Elusive concepts

Should I write with elusive concepts
Or should I simply state what is in my heart?
Do I even comprehend what it is that I feel?
And if I don't comprehend, how do I learn to understand it?
My thoughts are jarbled and frayed,
My feelings has choatic as a twisted nether.
My heart feels like it is on my sleeve,
And my dreams feel like they are spawled on the floor.
Am I frightened?
Am I hurt?
I feel like my heart is a pincusion for others,
And I feel like no one cares about me,
But is this only due to my situation,
Or is it linked to who I am?
I worry that I am unlikeable, not beautiful, inadequte, and replaceable.
I feel like I am my still doll who sits on the shelf:
Pretty to look at for a length of time,
But eventually boxed away when a better model arrives.
I am scared of being replaced.
I am scared of not being needed or valued.
I am scared of dying alone and being held in my own fragile arms.
Left to my own devices I am certain to perish.
Left in the cold I am certain to freeze.
Left alone in the corridors of my mind I am sure to wear away.
To stand alone in the midst of others,
Is a bitter and stinging pain.
I look upon the isle of defeat, anguish, and suffering which I fashioned years ago,
And then I realize that years have only been months,
And those months have hardly been twelve.
Grasping onto my own body to try and bring warmth,
But cold grasping cold can only make cold,
In the same way that darkness fighting darkness can only make darkness.
Warmth of his bones making my cold into warmth,
But how long can warmth last when the fire has gone?
When his fire leaves my icy bones it is like a candle leaving a darkend room,
The darkness quickly consumes the light and the room knows of the candle has only a memory.
Captivating and glorious is his presence to the cold,
But the warmth can't be in bondage to the cold,
The warmth does not need the cold.
Therefore I am scared that I will be of no use.
The only thing bringing me joy can quickly walk away,
And as others have grown to shun me,
How much longer can I expect perfection to stay beside me?
I am so scared.
So scared.
So scared...