Thu, 01/19/2017 - 00:13 -- xissiar

Your choices are what make you

If that's the case, I'm made of poor decisions and frequent fears

I'm a half-hearted concotion of anxious sweat and tears

I tear, gnash at the things that pull me back

Then retreat to bed and put my smile on the rack.

I undress myself from my skin

And I wonder what this mess is, and how I got in.

I have choices to make

Roads to take

Miles to go, smiles to fake.

I cannot be held back by love or fear,

And I move steadily towards the finish line till I find it approaching near.

Maybe then I can look back on this

On this mess and confusion and stress,

And say my choices didn't make me

I pulled them from a power within.

And I will be able to rest easy knowing

My choices didn't make me,

I made them.

This poem is about: 


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 for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741