It's my seventeenth, and I'm crying about a lot of things
Like how I spent half of my birthday money on new shoes
That I don't like that much,
All because I see pretty girls wear them.
I thought some magic shoes
Would make me just like you,
But when I walk, it just hurts and I feel uncomfortable.
A magic spell
I imagined for myself didn't work,
I still look the same.
Still got this long face
And young brain.
I thought a magic spell could mend me,
Time and time again
I tried
To make myself like the things I'm supposed to like,
Studying psychology but only music is on my mind.
Go to Uni, get a degree, see the things my mom never got to see
I live my own life in my fantasies,
No magic spells will fix me.
It's my seventeenth, things are not the same.
I used to only be blue now I'm washing off the paint
It's still wet, I can be saved,
But I can't underestimate what it'll take.
It's my seventeenth, I am not the same
I'm tired of always trying to change
The girl I was, she won't come back
Shes gone, and I have to accept that.
But a new me
Can be made.
It's my seventeenth, I'll start today.
YOU ARE READING
meraki
Poetrymeraki [may - rah - keey] ● Greek •{adj.} to do something with soul, creativity or love; putting a piece of yourself into what you do. ♡ongoing poetry collection, hope you enjoy!!♡ all rights reserved: all writing in this book is my own original wor...
