road map.

disgust burns acidic paths down my throat

and sadness compounds a self loathing lump

deep inside the endless cavern of grief i hide

in the confines of my freckled skin

can that girl really be me?

i promised to stay true to myself

and i said no one could ever change me

but here i am staring at a reflection of a girl

that says all the wrong words

and acts so differently

that i am almost convinced

that she isn’t me

and my insides splinter as i realize,

i made myself this way

and now i would do anything to go back

and try to find the girl i threw away secretly

so i could still tell myself that i am ok

and that i have a roadmap of me

that could always lead me back to her again

~and the worst part is–that no one even noticed how i tore myself apart to keep my best pieces

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