I wake before the sun does now,
And I work until it sets,
I fill my planner with mundane tasks
To create the illusion of living,
I hand assignments in early,
I eat a healthy breakfast,
I match my socks,
I make my bed,
I brush my hair,
I smile at work,
I do everything I am supposed to do.
I look, at last, complete.
No more sleeping in
No more messy hair
No more mismatched socks
No more passion projects
No more passion
Textbooks sit where stories once did.
My record player has been unplugged to make room for new chargers.
My tap shoes gather dust.
I forget the lyrics to show tunes.
My plants have died in my neglect for them.
The music stand holds study notes.
Every fix I had to make
To become what I am told to be
Came with the sacrifice
Of part of my soul.
I have no time for singing,
I daren’t dance and waste a day,
My friends see less of me,
I make it home only to collapse
And pray tomorrow will hold a spare minute
- p. winter
Idek if you can call this a poem **** it sounds like something I would have written in high school to try to be relatable. I wish I could say this was a list of metaphors. But I truly have started to lose myself and the things I love. I have no time. I have no energy. I have no space in my mind. I gave it all up to finally be the kind of girl whose parents are proud and who doesn’t get dumped and who achieves her goals and who people want to be friends with and who looks like she has her **** together and who isn’t a walking embarrassment or a waste of a human body. And now what? I am tired. I am lonely. I am quiet. I am miserable. And people keep complimenting me on how well I seem to be doing. “You look so much better, your grades have gotten so high, I’m so impressed you have time for all of that!” I have no time. I am not present during the day. I do not come alive with excitement. I do not seek adventure. I do not choose happiness. I choose practicality. I choose logic. I choose to be somebody else. And I hate who she is.