Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

These are the writings, the writings of me. The real writings of me, I have never allowed you to see. Scared of the rejection if you saw me raw. Scared you would leave me if I showed you my flaws. I am very much broken..I am very much scared, scared to lose you just like the others who said they cared. But then I said something real, I said something true. Yet I find myself abandoned after speaking on how I feel. I am very imperfect and misunderstood. I find myself in mischief even when I try to do good. I have been abused, beaten, abandoned and scorned. I have been cheated on and lied to so much I began to think it was normal. I lost myself in a bottomless pit because I let others actions define who I was. So I lied and I wronged and what I learned was who I allowed myself to become. But when I looked really deep..really deep within ME I finally began to like what I see. I learned that even when I am shattered it's still okay to be me. The beautiful me, the me that loves deep regardless of how others treat me. The me that can look at myself and finally like what I see. My life has been such a journey of many ups and downs but you have always been my constant. I now realize it was you who has always been around. I fought and I pushed and I begged and I begged you to leave yet you remained by my side so faithfully. I was so sure you would leave when you saw the real me. But as I sit here and ponder and continue to think..I realize it was me all along who was afraid of the writings of me. I kept looking back instead of trying to move forward. I stayed stuck in the past trying to fix what was broke instead of seeing that in my future was a new start. A new start with love and hope. I realize now what I should have realized then. But I know all my sufferings led me here to be able to begin again. Begin with life, begin to be alive and begin to see..I thought I was running from you but really I was running from me. To afraid to let myself or others get close enough to see..the real me..the raw me..the imperfect me..the me who is no longer afraid to show you the writings..the writings of me.