On Being Myself While Belonging to Others


One of the first things people want to know when they meet you is 
“a little bit about yourself”
And you play along,
Spatting out favorite colors and foods and hobbies.
But if I was to be truthful, 
I am not made up of the color green or the birthmark on my neck.
Being myself is going against my family to sit in my car alone when I should be in church
Opting instead to be saved by the holy graces of Tchaikovsky and the sound of the rain pouring onto the windshield.
More and more often I am wondering who of the people I love I am becoming.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741