I am not my past, I am who I am
But my past keeps on lurking
I try to cover my wounds and bruises with a smile
I persuade myself to be okay when I am not
I always run away when I needed to face my past.
I always think it is the past
It should not matter anymore,
But it does.
I appreciate my mom, but I never experienced the warmth of a family.
I always try to understand them, neglecting myself.
I had to move to a foreign country because of a family situation
And I had to give up everything- my friends, my family, and my self-esteem
Moving to another country that I could not speak the language drove me to depression
I could not do anything all by myself.
People looked at me differently, and I started becoming conscious
I felt like I was a disabled person
My self-esteem plummeted
It drove me to depression.
Day by day
I thought I was ok
But it is all coming back again.