I don’t really know who I am.
I take writing classes and I seem to fit in.
I carry my trauma wherever I go.
I am in another relationship, afraid to be alone.
We love each other within a few months.
I have lost myself, what little pieces I had,
pleasing him.
I wish I knew that I’m not bad.
This is such a heart-felt piece of writing. It grabs you form “I don’t really know who I am.” And becomes heartbreaking when, “I have lost myself.” Poignant and unfortunately a very universal theme.