Selfish. I. Where. Poem by Erin Maa
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Selfish. I. Where.
Rating: ★5.0
Only 23, I should be in my prime, I should be happy.
I'm living for nothing, nothing to live for.
No one to turn, no one can see.
I am no longer sure if I am me.
I know what I need to do yet can not.
To accept this fate is to embrace self pity.
Rightly I loathe how I have got.
I am no longer sure how it should be.
Maybe I'm lost, just can't find me.
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
At my lowest, seeing how much I use I and me made me uneasy, depression is introverted; sometimes impossible to see from the outside. We all veil ourselves, only when we remove this veil can help be found.
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5/4/2024 2:19:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
