Constantly told for 18 years

I'll never be good enough.

That I'll never get to leave

the small town I am from,

to pursue my future goals.

So I when I finally do,

I finally leave that town

I shed my whole self,

my old self,

like a snake in a skin

that has become too small.

Refusing to talk about

my forgetable, miserable

life before leaving

to the new people I meet.

I seem to have emerged,

from that old skin,

fresh and new,

but deep down I feel

that I can only run,

hide, from myself

before my past catches up.

And I am forced to be

minimized and miserable

for the rest of my life.