I don’t know how to let her go, she is a part of me.
She was who I was and in trying to keep up with her I lost my own pace.
I yearned to be the free and rebellious spirit
I wanted to stay the one driven by emotion
I wanted to keep my well of inspiration.
I feel that the version of me that washed up to the shore
after all these years is just dry, devoid of passion
or maybe it’s just the adult version I could never accept.
I live in this body,
it is the house of my soul
yet I am a complete stranger to myself.
This personality, this “me” that I don’t recognize in the mirror
is just an error in my code but I’ve been too weak to fix it
So, I coddle myself with fragments of my past,
stories of how fearless I was,
old shows and books that bring me to a time when I was stronger.
Maybe she built this for me, maybe she wanted me to cross this path.
Maybe she didn’t know I would shy away from a fight.
Maybe she wanted me to find a new passion, new drive.
But I don’t know how to let her be a memory, for she is a part of me.
I am too weak to step forward, but I would jump a step back
just to be the “me” I was without thinking it twice.
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