“Who am I?” I ask. I cry.
I’m lost and can’t be found.
I’m held together with some tape,
unravelling pound by pound.Not you, not her, not him, not them,
I must, must not compare;
living others’ lives will simply
drive me to despair.The “me” inside is kidnapped and
held ransom in a cell
as expectations throttle me
inside my “living hell”.I’m so afraid of looking odd
or just not fitting in.
I dare not bare my soul to you.
I shrink beneath my skin.I plaster on my “social smile”,
excel at saying: “Yes!”
The true, true me hides in the shade;
I live my life in stress.Until one day a seedling grows
and sprouts a shoot of hope
that wakens dormant parts of me
signposting how to copewith digging deep and finding me:
my likes, my hates, my dreams;
to sew the gaps within my self
and reattach the seams.To learn to say: “Thank you, but NO!”;
no longer have to hide.
I show the world the “me” within
to match the “me” outside.To get to know the “me” I am,
not be too scared to show
the myriad of characters
you’ve yet to get to know.My ups and downs, the good, the bad,
the whole of me I see;
I see and open to the world:
I’m finally set free.The most important part of this
explosion that is “me”:
to know that I’m not perfect and
do not pretend to be.I know the “me” I really am.
I hold my head up high:
no longer searching for my soul –
united “me” and “I”.
© Nicky Clifford 2016