She Isn’t Me but Once She Was

I miss writing         

when my words were full of pain

and hope

and hopelessness

 

I miss living

when my days were aimless

and useless

and full

 

I miss loving

When my heart was broken

and mangled

and naive

 

I wake up

and it’s a good day

and a great life

happily ever after

 

But she’s still inside

sometimes she wants out

and wants more

and less

 

Once upon a time she was me

and I was her

but I wasn’t me

not yet

 

I fear for the day she escapes

finds her way into my daughter

and whispers to her soul

whispers that sound like screams

 

I lock her up

I keep her quiet

and I hope no one sees

She Isn’t Me but Once She Was

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