I wrote this a very long time ago, accused by a lover of not being myself. I posted it once before and removed it, a friend convinced me to repost it, so here it is....
Who else can I be?
I've never tried to be anyone else,
Not consciously, at least.
Maybe I'm wary of people who get too close,
And I change to protect myself.
But who can you trust?
Can you even trust your own heart?
I am frightened of growing old alone
I am frightened of being ignored.
Afraid of giving all my heart to someone,
And having it taken away forever.
I have seen marriages start and end,
Beautiful relationships fall through...
Children torn between the people they love,
And grow up bitter and resentful.
I have shared my secrets with so called friends,
And the whole town has heard my stories.
A victim of society, but then again,
In some ways aren't we all?
I don't like to hurt others,
I don't like being hurt.
I am generous in some ways, yes.
But selfish on the other hand.
I demand attention from others,
And pay attention when it is asked of me.
Take all that I am willing to return
Without a second thought.
I love to tell a joke, but I'm a deep thinker,
Who talks too much to cover nervousness.
I'm just a human being with a brain and a heart,
That can so easily confuse each other.
I want to be independant, but not detatched,
I want to be loved, without being smothered.
To gain trust and respect in return for mine.
To share my life, not just a bank account and a bed.
The real me is the combination of the things I feel,
My experiences make me who I am.
She is the woman who greets me in the mirror,
My harshest critic, my worst enemy, my best friend.
In hindsight, when I am asked to be the real me,
Instead of questioning my own sanity,
Perhaps I should have said, with a wry smile...
Who the hell are you?
Poetry by Purple Phoenix
Read 506 times
Written on 2009-01-17 at 02:02
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Who Are You?
I was asked once to be the real me...Who else can I be?
I've never tried to be anyone else,
Not consciously, at least.
Maybe I'm wary of people who get too close,
And I change to protect myself.
But who can you trust?
Can you even trust your own heart?
I am frightened of growing old alone
I am frightened of being ignored.
Afraid of giving all my heart to someone,
And having it taken away forever.
I have seen marriages start and end,
Beautiful relationships fall through...
Children torn between the people they love,
And grow up bitter and resentful.
I have shared my secrets with so called friends,
And the whole town has heard my stories.
A victim of society, but then again,
In some ways aren't we all?
I don't like to hurt others,
I don't like being hurt.
I am generous in some ways, yes.
But selfish on the other hand.
I demand attention from others,
And pay attention when it is asked of me.
Take all that I am willing to return
Without a second thought.
I love to tell a joke, but I'm a deep thinker,
Who talks too much to cover nervousness.
I'm just a human being with a brain and a heart,
That can so easily confuse each other.
I want to be independant, but not detatched,
I want to be loved, without being smothered.
To gain trust and respect in return for mine.
To share my life, not just a bank account and a bed.
The real me is the combination of the things I feel,
My experiences make me who I am.
She is the woman who greets me in the mirror,
My harshest critic, my worst enemy, my best friend.
In hindsight, when I am asked to be the real me,
Instead of questioning my own sanity,
Perhaps I should have said, with a wry smile...
Who the hell are you?
Poetry by Purple Phoenix
Read 506 times
Written on 2009-01-17 at 02:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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melanie sue |
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