To my twelve year old self

I don’t think you’re bad
For being sad
Pinching at your skin
Wondering how in the world it will end
I don’t think you’re less of someone
Trying to be better than someone
You grew up trying to be
Proving it’s wasteful to see
Only the brightside of things.

I don’t think you’re not trying
Despite all echoing
In your ears that you’ll never make it
Perhaps have to fake it
It’s a trip to paradise
When all one wants is to suffice
Exactly who they are in sorrow
Right here, right now not tomorrow

I don’t think you are a lost cause
Just because you pause
Whether to go or stop
Fight or flop
On your bed again because it’s hard
To get far
When you feel like you can’t
Mean anything outside of a rant

I think you’ve got time
To be just fine
Even if the words don’t feel right
Whether you listen through doors,  the whole night
I think you’ve got time to be brave
Letting each moment when you are, collect in a piggy bank to save
I think you’ve got time to fail
Learn it again with prevail

You won’t be the person you wanted to be five years from now but that’s fine. You are only on the tip of the iceberg of accepting who you really are in spite of all the changes. You are more than this…


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