I Was...I Am
Faking the smiles
And having the grief pile
She grew up
Got stuck in the black
She wish she could take
All the scars back.
So she writes,
Hoping to reach
Someone with the same fight
Doesn’t want to preach
The same lines
As all the others
She’ll take her time
And ruffle a few feathers
Before she finds
Her own little spark
And reads the signs
To carry her out the dark.
Insecurities cut to the core,
She’ll fall in love with lands from a far
A boy with a lighting scar
And a man called the Doctor
Teaching to love herself, once more.
This poem is about:
Me