I Was...I Am

Faking the smiles

And having the grief pile

She grew up

Got stuck in the black

She wish she could take

All the scars back.

So she writes,

Hoping to reach

Someone with the same fight

Doesn’t want to preach

The same lines

As all the others

She’ll take her time

And ruffle a few feathers

Before she finds

Her own little spark

And reads the signs

To carry her out the dark.

Insecurities cut to the core,

She’ll fall in love with lands from a far

A boy with a lighting scar

And a man called the Doctor

Teaching to love herself, once more.

This poem is about: 


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