Payment to be Me

I had to pay, actually,
to find myself.
Didn't you?
 
I had choices,
I had to chose.
I had fallen to the social norms.
 
I lost my sanity,
and needed to go back,
to find my way.
After selling my laughs,
I needed the past.
 
So I took a moment to think,
dug into myself deep,
hoping to find,
back the real me inside.
 
I looked,
I searched,
I tried to change back.
But the damage was done.
 
I had to pay, you know,
to be who I am now.
I neither love who I am,
or hate who I've come to be.
 
No more filters,
No more masks,
I laugh and smile,
and do the things I love to do,
but no matter how many times I do all that,
the damage catches up.
 
I'll always end up being a bitter person.
That's just how it is.
I can smile for real,
I can fake a smile for you...
but at the end of the day,
I'm nothing more than a bitter person,
with a bitter attitude,
and a bitter life.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741