i don’t want to be this person.
she is conflicted
and paralyzed
by the weight of history.
her mistakes bloom upon her skin:
bruises surface
and the abrasions sting.
i’m so fucking tired
of being everyone and no one.
your quiet accusations rub me raw
as if i don’t know the truth
it’s not fair
(life’s not, i know)
to be this alive
and yet already buried.
this girl is not the girl
i thought i’d be
but she is who i am.
a disappointment.


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