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#overcomingdoubt
I am me and not what others see me I was confident, with a glowing smile, A passion inside that could light up a mile. I made everyone around me shine, Focused, steady, with dreams to define. Like a stream pulling fish with ease, I knew I’d achieve greatness, piece by piece. From the ground up, I’d build my way, Until someone came and led me astray. They made me question what I’d become, Small and unsure, my thoughts would succumb. How strange it feels to think you’re free, Yet chained by what others want you to be. I lost myself, or so I thought, In battles my heart and mind had fought. Something unchangeable, something innate, A struggle I couldn’t fully escape. But now I see what was hidden inside— The real me, no longer denied. The one who smiled and spread delight, Who held his dreams in the darkest night. The person who helped me see this truth Is gone, yet left behind their proof. And now I know, clear as can be, I am me and not what others see me.
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Jan 19, 2025
Jan 19, 2025 at 1:33 PM UTC
Khurana
I am me and not what others see me
I am me and not what others see me I was confident, with a glowing smile, A passion inside that could light up a mile. I made everyone around me shine, Focused, steady, with dreams to define. Like a stream pulling fish with ease, I knew I’d achieve greatness, piece by piece. From the ground up, I’d build my way, Until someone came and led me astray. They made me question what I’d become, Small and unsure, my thoughts would succumb. How strange it feels to think you’re free, Yet chained by what others want you to be. I lost myself, or so I thought, In battles my heart and mind had fought. Something unchangeable, something innate, A struggle I couldn’t fully escape. But now I see what was hidden inside— The real me, no longer denied. The one who smiled and spread delight, Who held his dreams in the darkest night. The person who helped me see this truth Is gone, yet left behind their proof. And now I know, clear as can be, I am me and not what others see me.
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Dear SD, You’re always like an SD card slotting into my time with your own version of memories – overwriting the good ones; rewriting the rest until they feel like yours. You always chipping in at the worst moments – slipping in like a thief of thought, leaving me as hollow as an empty crisp packet. You’ve mastered the art of inaction – teaching me to discard what matters, to throw away my intentions into the wind until I’m caught in the sour howl of your shouting breeze. And when I think I’ve finally got it all figured out, you arrive, tilting your head, whispering, "_Are you sure, my love?_" It’s a question that weighs me down by ounces; as you’re a mistress who never needs to raise her voice to pin me in place. You’ve been the needle that keeps me stuck in this bundle of hay, telling me it’s better to stay, pretending everything’s okay. "_Try again another day,_" you say – but another day just becomes the next day, just other days, hey? And in the meantime, you hold all the orders, dictating how I move, and how I don’t move. But I shouldn’t be listening to you – putting you ahead of myself, when really, you’ve only been living rent-free in my head, making my mind your house, cluttering it until I forget to chase you out. You bring nothing but stillness – no progress, no movement, just a hypnotic sway of hips tempting me to sit, to stay, and to watch life from the window. No more. Your rent is overdue. Your words hold no truth. Hush your lips, still those hips – I’m done letting you make my steps your property. It’s not you, it’s me – for letting you be you to me. We aren’t meant to be. Goodbye – __Self-doubt...__ Sincerely, insincerely signed, Your ex-lover.
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Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 12:08 PM UTC
OddOdysseyPoet
A break-up letter to you...
Dear SD, You’re always like an SD card slotting into my time with your own version of memories – overwriting the good ones; rewriting the rest until they feel like yours. You always chipping in at the worst moments – slipping in like a thief of thought, leaving me as hollow as an empty crisp packet. You’ve mastered the art of inaction – teaching me to discard what matters, to throw away my intentions into the wind until I’m caught in the sour howl of your shouting breeze. And when I think I’ve finally got it all figured out, you arrive, tilting your head, whispering, "_Are you sure, my love?_" It’s a question that weighs me down by ounces; as you’re a mistress who never needs to raise her voice to pin me in place. You’ve been the needle that keeps me stuck in this bundle of hay, telling me it’s better to stay, pretending everything’s okay. "_Try again another day,_" you say – but another day just becomes the next day, just other days, hey? And in the meantime, you hold all the orders, dictating how I move, and how I don’t move. But I shouldn’t be listening to you – putting you ahead of myself, when really, you’ve only been living rent-free in my head, making my mind your house, cluttering it until I forget to chase you out. You bring nothing but stillness – no progress, no movement, just a hypnotic sway of hips tempting me to sit, to stay, and to watch life from the window. No more. Your rent is overdue. Your words hold no truth. Hush your lips, still those hips – I’m done letting you make my steps your property. It’s not you, it’s me – for letting you be you to me. We aren’t meant to be. Goodbye – __Self-doubt...__ Sincerely, insincerely signed, Your ex-lover.
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