Used to Be

I used to be a fashion blogger.
I used to be a wife.
I used to be an atheist.
I used to hate my life.

I used to try with all my might
to make what others see -
a picture of me, a fantasy -
a false reality.

Today, I’m still imperfect.
I’m learning as I go.
I’m grateful for
the fallen times,
for they serve the now I know.

I think I’m in love with everyone,
the whole entire world.
I try to hide this oddity,
yet still it will unfurl.

This poem just fell right out of me.
My goal remains unclear.

All I know
is when I hide
the words and thoughts I hear,
I feel stuck and sick and saddened;
pain shoots out from my ears.

March 1, 2020


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