This Version of Me
I thought I would be more by now more brave, more honest, more whole I made promises in the dark and broke them in the morning light
It wasn’t the world that defeated me It was my own small hesitations the way I choose comfort over truth silence over saying this hurts
I watched myself become someone I swore I wouldn’t recognize standing still while time kept moving calling fear “patience” to survive
Every mirror feels like evidence every memory, a receipt I know exactly where I turned away that’s the part that aches the most
Because failing yourself is a lonely thing no villain, no dramatic fall Just the slow grief of knowing you were capable of more and didn’t reach for it when it mattered
And I carry that version of me the one I didn’t become like a quiet weight in my chest heavy not because its gone but because it’s still watching
