An Ode to the Old Me

You weren't perfect 

Your tears stained your pillow as your dreams

drenched your mind. 

When your eyes opened in the sun soaked morning

you left your darkness behind.

Your anger would be kept in check 

as you paid yourself with praise

for taking everything in on the bad days

You let your fears run wild as you wrote 

down every misguided feeling 

and unsure wave on the fresh sand 

and sent them to the end of the world 

on your rickety boat. 

You made mistakes 

you bumped your head 

On the edge of confusion 

you bandaged your bleeding wounds 

and hid the scars instead  

You were quiet in the crowd

you were loud underneath

your beaming exterior 

as you shook at the knees. 

You couldn't say what you needed to 

but you knew what needed to be said.

You felt smaller than most 

but was always trying to be the biggest friend.

this is to the old me

with her head half risen 

I don't regret being you 

but now I know what its like

to not keep my imperfections hidden.