Who am I?
What does being yourself really mean?
I always ask myself this one question.
Hell, I wish I knew.
One day I feel like I know myself. I know who I want to become. I know exactly who I am, today and now.
Other days, I'm a different me. I'm different.
Yourself. Yourself. Being yourself.
It still boggles me 'til days on end. Myself. Me.
Sometimes I feel like there are a thousand me's.
If there is, then am I fake? Or am I everyone piled into one body?
Am I real?
I hate it.
I hate that I do not know. I'm supposed to know who I am. Because it's me. It's me.
I want to be me, truly me, so badly but how can I ever be me if I don't know who I am.
There are days where I wish I wasn't me. I wish I wasn't born into the life I have been brought up into. Some days I just want to shit on the world. Put up my middle finger and shout "Fuck you"
Other days I want to give everyone I pass a hug, thanking them for their existence. I want to give the world a hug for keeping me safe. Other days, I feel immensely grateful, tears form in my eyes from the feeling of pure bliss.
But, the question still stands at the back of my mind. Who am I?
I wish I knew. I wish.
I change and develop every day. Every day.
It's hard to keep up.
Who am I?
A teen with nowhere to be, no one to see? Or a teen who has the potential to change the world?
Pick and choose. Change and develop. Help and conquer.
Me is a me I cannot change. I am me.
YOU ARE READING
kinda poetry but not really tho...
PoetryMy life is crazy boring and the odd times a bit interesting. Words are words that have meaning if you want them to. I write shit. Here's a not rhyming poetry collection. Here are my thoughts in the form of words. (it's really bad but read on if you'...
