poemsbygrace

The Words I Say

I can never make my own decisions. So I ask for advice.

Red or blonde?
Her response: you'll look good in either color. Awe, I blush.
Then she says, "how about red?"

I examine the room of my friends, four of them with red hair.

The first time in my life at age 22, I think to myself, "I don't want to look like everybody else."

I wanna be me, the quiet, loud, weird me, the awkward, yet clumsy me. I'd rather stand out and be proud.

There was so many stuff I've left unfinished in my life, but now I've been shaped into someone happier and expressive.

As a kid I used to want to create this different version of me with a fake name.

I am who I am, even with what people say.

Moving forward, I started to value the words I say instead of the number of poems I write.