I feel like I’m losing a friend,
It started off slow,
Faded like your favorite t-shirt,
After one too many wash cycles.

Like the stretch of an overused rubber band,
Losing its resilience,
It’s snap,
It’s ability to bounce back.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the t shirt,
Going through the same cycle,
Over and over,
And expecting different results.

Like the shirt’s need to be clean,
Is my need for validation,
To not hurt your feelings,
To make me feel better about myself.

But I no longer care,
How you feel,
What you do,
Or who you do it with.

I made it through one last wash cycle,
One more strip of my colors,
My identity,
But somehow I came out brighter than ever.