She was the better me.
And I knew it.
No one could distinguish the difference.
No one cared to.

As a shy daydreamer in my early years,
I was transformed into a quiet machine.
Finding it even more difficult
To branch out to others,
And make friends.

I was never confident in myself before,
And i wasn't even when i was medicated.
She was better than me, but not in everything.

Although,
She is quick to tempt me
As i recede from this medication that has made me into the robot that my teachers praise me for,
The lack of confidence rises.
She ****** and prods me and convinces me that every word i say,
Is unimportant.

"These are only ramblings." she tells me.
"Nobody is listening to what you say anyways."

I swear to you,
I believe every darned word that she seeps into my skull.
The medication me has always been the **** job of my brain.
The better, more popular version of me.

And although I continue to pass my classes with outstanding grades,
Without my medication,
It doesn't feel the same.
She knows.
And i know.

But I have been her for eight years.
And i am ready to say goodbye.
She lingers still,
Waiting for the return
That i will not give her.