when i die
don’t talk about how i lit up a room every time i walked in it
or how i was loved by all
how people just gravitated towards me
this isn’t true
why do we say these things about the dead?
be honest about me
no one even noticed when i walked into a room
a couple close people loved me
i wondered why no one gravitated towards me
this is the truth
i could never get out of my own way
self sabotage is kind of my thing
but i also think i’m a good person
or was since were talking as though i’m dead
i loved everyone as equals
all living things
always gave people the benefit of the doubt
even strangers
for better or for worse
i loved the beach and having my toes in the sand
as cliche as that sounds
i mean everyone likes that
but i really really liked it
i loved making people laugh
and i’d try really hard to do so
even though i wasn’t exactly a class clown
too many of my jokes had me as the butt of them
when you first met me you laughed
but when you knew how much i really disliked myself
it was harder to laugh
because you knew what i was saying was true
i was an entitled white girl
and tried so hard to act like i wasn’t
i had everything
but couldn’t even say i loved those who gave it all to me
the words felt weird coming out of my mouth
inside i was a quiet nature loving hippie
who loved animals and reading and dreamt of hiking trails and volunteer trips
but on the outside
i wanted so badly to be normal
to blend in
wear the clothes they all did
post pictures like they all did
do my hair like they all did
and makeup too
but it never felt right
and i wondered why i never felt like i knew who i was
even though deep down i knew
it was because i portrayed myself as someone i wasn’t
i was shallow
i thought i knew by looking at people who i’d want to be friends with
or date
and i wondered why i didn’t have close friends
or why i hated all the boys i met
i created ideas of people and was upset when they didn’t live up to them
who was i to do that?
i preach acceptance on a large scale but what about a smaller one?
there were good and bad things about me
maybe more bad at least it seems to me
of course i think so
but in the end the message here is clear
don’t say i lit up rooms and drew people to me
be honest
tell it how it is
don’t portray my memory differently like i did myself
twentysandtrying.com 