I’ve been changing myself to fit people’s standards,
since third grade,
I don’t know her she was weird and goofy,
liked unicorns,
thought the world of herself,
didn’t care about boys,
she loved herself and others,
just hated the world,
didn’t see the world completely how it was,
She smiled and it was real,
Loved goofy music,
And corny,
Even cringe to,
Didn’t think she was a fatty,
He fav color was pink,
cause she felt like it had to Be,
mines black and blue because it reflects my heart,
I have scars,
She would question them,
I hate me but I could never hate her,
that’s the thing I don’t hate me as a whole, I hate me as of parts,
I’m fine with this made up version of me,
Tho I’m truly not,
Most accept her,
that’s all younger me wanted,
so I’ll be fine,
second grade me is pounding on my heart,
Screaming for me to open the doors,
My inner child is locked inside,
So i can keep my cool,
Without blowing up,
Boiling over like a pot on a stove,
Fire with to much wood,
Near grass,
08/29/25
