Rhetorical confession

I am frustrated to my soul at the fact that I can't find the right words to define or describe it. I'm self-conscious of my appearance but more so my words. I'm a poet that feels nothing like a poet or maybe I'm a self-deluded imposter pretending to be a poet. I have exhausted almost every once of energy in search of depth without ever having voiced it's complexities and so it is in that nature that I am shallow. I am every word I've written and it's opposite without ever in the slightest way contradicting myself. I neither betray nor portray my character but I, in these words, have given you all of me. I guess to more accurately put, I'd say I am the constant thought of suicide pushed to the back of your mind.