Who am I?
At this moment.
Not my past, not my future.
Now.
I am that look in your eyes I haven't seen in months.
I am the knives in a back,
Wounds fresh and bleeding uncontrollably.
I am confident yet scared in a shrink room.
I am digging to find my heart that's praying for a new beginning.
But my nails aren't strong enough.
Yet somehow I do the impossible.
I take what should be bad and find living.
No no. Living free.
I create a shovel out of that late hazy night,
The snapchats I overthink,
The sweet and different,
And not you.
You put my heart in that coffin a long time ago,
And only decided to let me save it now.
But guess what.
I don't need you.
That's what you miscalculated.
My feelings.
Though I guess you never really cared about them in the first place.
You held me back from my great perhaps.
And now I'm free.
So in the most fucked up way.
Thanks.
