Of What I Used To BeMature

A poem that I recently wrote to acknowledge that I am not who I was a few months ago. I change as day changes to night, and it's not always for the better.

I’m not me anymore,

I’m just a fragment of what I used to be.

A burned down tree,

Let free,

Just to fall to ashes.

Tears line the eye lashes,

Go back in time before dots and dashes,

When we found our matches,

And weren’t ever alone.

You say you’re bad to the bone,

But I believe it because you have thrown those sticks and those stones,

At the girl who has been pushed down.

You wonder why she frowns,

It’s because her fairytale dreams have been shot down,

Honey, there’s no gown,

No diamonds on your crown.

You’re not a princess, so let your crown fall,

You don’t need to stand tall,

You don’t need to take it all.

Try to feel better,

Tell yourself the days are like bad weather,

And that it will go away.

News flash, it’s here to stay.

Happiness is just your dream,

And you think you’re stronger and better than you really seem,

But what you get is what you got.

You got caught.

Now you’re left to rot,

And to let your corpse decompose,

Because this is what you chose,

All for yourself.

You’re left on a shelf,


Keep saying that you’re dying,

But your pulse is still beating,

There’s no retreating,

Because there’s no place to hide.

Now enjoy the ride.

Expectations are a must,

Your life has had periods of boom and bust,

Time goes by, nobody to trust,

Heart caked with rust,

How does it feel to be stepped on, to be kicked up like dust?

Days spent crying,


Buying in to whatever is left to be for fun,

Can’t I just be done?

I have spun,

My own web of troubles,

The pain doubles.

Why am I living in jail?

Might as well be a living hell,

Nobody loves me, cause if they did they’d pay the bail.

I walk the walk for you,

Talk the talk too,

What’s a girl to do,

When she is bluer than blue.

Never a new shade, or a new hue.

My kingdom has fallen,

And I’m left bawlin’,

But those are tears that no one hears me cry.

If I was an angel,

I could fly,

But I can’t,

Unless flying now means falling,

Unless walking now means crawling.

Let my kingdom lie,

Let the people cry,

Let the angels fly,

As I slowly die.

I am not me anymore,

And quite frankly,

I envy,

Who I used to be,

The better me.
The End

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