I remember bits and pieces
Of who I was before this.
I wore dresses and bows.
I danced and I twirled.
I was young and innocent
And happy
What I can't remember
Is how to get back to that.
Dresses aren't comfortable,
I'm too old for bows,
I only dance in the rain.
Happiness is a foreign idea.
The world has ruined me.
I have no idea who I am,
I'm a missing person.
