I miss the versions of myself,
That I've since packed away.
I miss the little girl,
Who played in her mind all day.
I miss the teenage rebel,
Who had no clue who to be.
I miss the young woman,
Who paved the way for me.
I miss the strength I had,
To face danger with a smile.
I miss the girl who used to run,
And appreciate each mile.
I miss the girl who loved herself,
When she had wider thighs.
The girl who without needles,
Looked fine in her own eyes.
I miss the me who made believe,
The me with endless hope.
I miss the me who slept and loved,
Inside my childhood home.
I miss myself but maybe
It’s all part of growing up.
Changing and transforming
Into me’s for me to love.