Who Am I Supposed To Be

I just am the way I am,

though it’s not who I want to be.

I assume within my mind

that something is wrong with me

Im not normal with the way I think.

My thoughts are heavy as an anchor that lets me sink.

I can’t help but ask when or how did it get this bad?

It’s not because I lacked a mom or dad.

Yeah, I have their characteristics.

I hold some of their traits.

But they’re not to blame as to how I’m portrayed.

My reality is upon how I act.

So if they speak about me, they’re speaking a fact.

I’ve had the chance to change,

with each chance I’ve remained the same.

As if my mind holds my body with invisible chains

Im tied to a false reality because I’ve given up

Self doubt creeps in

im back to feeling as if I’m not enough.

I wonder what people choose to remember by?

I wonder what words I’ve said had an impact on people’s lives.

I question rather I was truly helpful

or if I was ever truly kind.

However I am portrayed, I just hope people realize I never lost hope or faith.

Silence after darkness became much more than a safe place.

If I had the chance to change my ways

Id start off by giving myself more grace.

I’d remind myself to be just a bit more grateful each day.

I can’t guarantee that the grass will be greener.

Yet it’s still a known fact that the sun must shine every day.

Even after all the hurt you’ve faced

Every loud thunderstorm and every lighting strike

The sun has to come out leaving the grass wet but it shines.

The raindrops glistening with proof that the rainstorm was there

As if your tears dropping down your face is similar to compare.

I’m still beautiful and I still shine.

I just am the way I am,

though it’s not who I want to be.