Who am I? This is a question I often ask myself. Infact I ask this question every time I look in the mirror... I just wish the answer would be a little bit clearer.
I feel like I’m a prisoner to my own mind, always second guessing every rhyme. Never good enough for someone to take the time to listen. Everyday the answers seem farther and farther away.
I feel like I’m chasing the sun. I’m trying to run, but by then it’s already gone. My thoughts are growing at an alarming rate. Coiling around me like a giant snake.
I’m standing at the gate of hate trying to find an escape. Debating with myself who I really am. Am I skinny? Am I thick? Am I tiny? Am I tall? Because right now looks tell it all.
Where a person comes from, if they are rich or poor. How they act, if they’re mean or nice. What kind of future they have. They come in waves of names that cause the ceiling to cave.
Leaving us wishing we could erase the mistakes and stop feeling like we were misplaced.
When did we get replaced by fakes? When did we start caring so much about what others thought that we stopped being us? When did I start to being a disgrace, hiding my face.
Not wanting others to see me… The real me.
The me that could laugh the day away not caring what anyone would say, the me that could be anything I wanted to be, the me that would follow the stars to anyplace,
anytime it didn’t matter if I could see them or not they were there. The me that loved me for who I was not what I pretended to be! I want that me back.
I want to retrace my steps back to the place where I could be me not letting anyone tell me who to be to the place where I was free! This is the me I want to be.
The free me, the smiling me, the me that could be anything I wanted to be me. Not this fake replacement that betrays everything I once was. I want to embrace the fact that I can be me.
I no longer have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I can be me. The real me. The me I’m meant to be.