What I do..What I'm not

by Micah Williams

November 6, 2015

I wish to make a definition of myself

I wish to put who I am into words others may understand

I wish to have this ability

But no few words can define me

I can better be described with verbs rather than nouns and pronouns

I show and don’t tell unless it helps for you to understand what I am saying

I give and don’t ask for things back but then sometimes end up empty-handed

I hold on to opinions because they are how I’ve shaped myself since the 5th grade

I cry on the inside because, either way, it’s a fleeting pain

I remember my young self and the need for compassion

I think about how I am now and see nothing much has changed

I feel self-involved and selfish because I barely effectively communicate

I think of how 17 years practiced imperfection will bring on some hate

I rarely pray to God about these these things because they seem quite petty

But when I have thoughts of my constant mistakes they are often more than I can take

I think sanely therefore I am but I allow others to define my own feelings

I breath steady so I know I am alive but..

I am not living

I am not happy

I am not satisfied

I am not stable

I am not who I am meant to be but a combination of critics and hurt feelings

I am not me!

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Comments (1)

Micah WilliamsNov 6, 2015

I wish to make a definition of myselfI wish to put who I am into words others may understandI wish to have this abilityBut no few words can define me  I can better be  described with verbs rather than nouns and pronounsI show and don’t tell unless it helps for you to understand what I am saying I give and don’t ask for things back but then sometimes end up empty-handedI hold on to opinions because they are how I’ve shaped myself since the 5th gradeI cry on the inside because, either way, it’s a fleeting pain I remember my young self and the need for compassionI think about how I am now and see nothing much has changedI feel self-involved and selfish because I barely effectively communicateI think of how 17 years practiced imperfection will bring on some hate  I rarely pray to God about these these things because they seem quite pettyBut when I have thoughts of my constant mistakes they are often more than I can take I think sanely therefore I am but I allow others to define my own feelingsI breath steady so I know I am alive but.. I am not livingI am not happyI am not satisfiedI am not stable I am not who I am meant to be but a combination of critics and hurt feelingsI am not me!<div> </div>

Comments are closed for this poem.