i am not who i was a year ago,
i have changed both physically and mentally.
my brain is more scars from my battle.
i can feel the freedom from this shell.
but what about my vision?
my hearing, my feeling?
how do i see that i'm beautiful, how do i hear the sincerity in that compliment?
how do i know i'm not lying?
no, i am not who i was a year ago.
but is that a good thing?
YOU ARE READING
untitled poems
Poetrythese are my untitled poems. i write when boredom strikes. they vary by my mood, and they may have different lines & stanzas than the next. they may rhyme. they may not. i don't capitalize my letters.
