I used to be Me
I used to be me before I
was carved into a statue of
something I was never
meant to be.
I used to be me before I
was mold into a
standard “grow up”
and was forced to
do it too soon.
And I did grow up too soon,
not realizing that the
mold was too big to fit me.
It doesn’t matter
because I had to.
I had to pause being me
because I didn’t have a choice.
The options; play, rewind and
fast forward are now gone.
I’m stuck being this version of me.
The “I appear to be happy-go-lucky”
but I’m a “serial overthinker and
my own worst enemy”.
I don’t even know if I
like it or even if I should.
I used to be me before I
had to be strong before
I had to hide my tears.
I used to, and that’s
the worst part.
I used to be me, but now,
with all my pieces rearranged
to fit this definition of who I
should be, what I should do,
and what I should have done,
I’m not sure if I should even
call me, me.
