The Truth about Me

Do not ask me why I am so stubborn.

Do not ask me why I choose to love God & not attend church.

Do not ask me if I am truly happy with my life.

I tend to avoid questions that have answers that are hard to hear.

I also think too much.

I let my mind skip around playing double dutch.

I think about things like:

Am I nice enough?

I need to exercise more.

Am I being true to me?

I need to do better.

Am I too blunt?

I try not to think about myself too often.

In fear that my unavoidable accountability is the reason as to why I am me.

I am afraid that I will not appreciate being as honest with myself as I am with everyone else.

I tend to keep things locked away.

Like the imperfections that I notice every day.

Sometimes I pretend that I am perfect.

Until I realize that I owe it to myself to be worth it.

To be perfectly imperfect.

I have learned to love the truth.

The truth is that I am just as insecure in who I am, as I am secure in who I want to be.

At times I wish that my mother would’ve told me that it was okay to be me.

Maybe I should’ve taught myself that too.

Maybe I would know that to be true, today at the age of 22.

I have become pretty good at hiding when I’m hurt.

I send sarcastic bullets flying through the sky whenever I feel a tear trying to stop by.

Forgive me for who I am, because if I had a choice this is not the me I would’ve intended to be.

I never intend on making mistakes on replay.

I was taught to forgive myself before giving an apology.

So, it is now that I tell myself sorry!

For letting that boy make me feel as if I meant nothing.

For not looking for everything within myself that my mother forgot tell me.

For allowing him to take my purity hostage while keeping my true self in bondage.

For not seeing that my brothers have walked through similar fires as me.

For not telling them that they are lights within me.

For telling myself that I cannot be who I intended to be.

For not allowing myself to love.

For not allowing myself to fall short and think highly.

For not practicing what I preach.

For not allowing myself more chances to just be me.

For not noticing that I am just as strong as I am beautiful.

3 thoughts on “The Truth about Me

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