Something
I used to sit in a room,
the only feelings I remember were disdain and gloom.
Hearing words repeat in my head:
“You’re nothing,” causing me to rot in my bed.
Rot in my bed with these thoughts in my head.
What would the older me see?
What would the older me be?
Just a little kid looking at four walls,
not even realizing that the older her is observing it all.
Observing me, observing who I used to be.
Broken was all that I seen.
But I opened my eyes,
and now I realize
I can finally answer the younger me.
I see a child who just wished she could be happy.
I see a child who is just misunderstood.
Who would the older me be?
So I answered to my younger self softly:
“We’re doing what we were created to be.
Something.”
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and are for informational purposes only. They do not necessarily reflect the views of Honor Society®, a private membership organization. Participation is voluntary and does not guarantee specific outcomes, including scholarships or employment. Readers should independently evaluate all information.
About the Author
