I have changed myself so many times
that I have forgotten who I really am
Do I really like the color red?
Is my favorite genre of music even rock?
Should I be an artist?
Am I really a poet?
Who am I?
Who was I?
Trying to impress someone that never really cared
Begging for love in an unloved home
Being the dutiful daughter
The loyal friend
A compassionate partner
Where did any of that get me?
Left alone, I'm lonely
Searching for pieces of me
Looking for missing memories
I'm trapped in a shell afraid of society
Living with my anxiety
Scared of who I might be or could be
Pave pathways to hurt
Pain is all I know
I'm actually afraid to be happy
I'm terrified that one day I'll get to taste happiness
True happiness and it'll be ripped away
So I stay
Stay in place not recognizing myself
I rather live with the sadness and the unknown
Than to know and have it taken away



© Spew