This Is Me

Sun, 12/01/2019 - 16:52 -- Bisma

This is not the real me.
The me that everybody sees.
The inner damage no one sees.
Is what it is the real me.
The one that hides behind a smile.
The one that cannot be seen.
Because no one cares about the real me.
Trying to please but people don't see.
Being enough but never being.
Suffocating as such is this world.
Always taking the breath away.
Asking for forgiveness always always always.
No one seems to accept it.
Rejection formed the real me.
The me that no one ever sees.
Struggling but lost the real me.
Fighting but lost the real me.
Killing but killed the real me.
Crying but the tears dried.
It's been so long who is this me?
I don't recognize the shape of me.
The way I'm, scares me because who is this me?
I'm frightened and I'm hiding away.
I'm hiding and I'm getting away.
I'm trying but I'm wasting away.
I'm breathing but I'm dying away.
The breath is gone, the life is gone.
The face is gone, the heart is gone.
The beauty turned into the dust.
A dust we once tried to rid.
As such is life, it changes you.
As such is death, it destroys you.
The question is, is life worse than death?
Life destroyed the real me and I don't know what else to see.
No one there to hold me close because I don't know who me is anymore.
How can you hold someone who's not there?
How can you feel someone who's not there?
How can a person wish to die?
What is life and why does it make you cry?
I don't feel and I don't see.
I'm completely lost.
Because I don't know who is the real me.
I'm sorry is all I can say because I don't know who are you and I don't know who I'm and I don't know this world and I don't know anything.
The me that was once, knew everything but now I'm something else, something vile, something odious, something unrecognizable.
This is the me I hate but this is me, this is me, this is me.

This poem is about: 
Me

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