I write to express what my mouth can't say,

To let go of what I lived each and every day,

To show the world that this me is here to stay.

This is Me.

I was never able to let go,

But poetry has given me the opportunity to show,

The person I was long, long, ago.

This is Me.

Tried to walk but my rugged path was chosen,

Tried to speak when nothing could be spoken,

Tried to fix the world when everything was broken.

This was Me.

Tried to find peace with the death of my family,

Always had a smile but never was happy,

Convinced myself: stupid, fat, ugly.

This was Me.

With a shattered heart was always depressed,

Longed for love while others’ hurtful actions misled,

Tears never stopped but the pain progressed,

This was Me.

The agony of the past forever lingers,

The memories were my constant reminders,

Like a shadowing tormentor.

This was Me.

My world changed when my eyes opened wide,

The life I lived was just a lie,

I could now smile, I could now laugh, I had nothing to hide.

This is Me.

The scars I wore are visible but matter no more,

My education, family, and faith is now my imperative core,

Happiness of me and others is what I live for.

This is Me.

Sickness, cancer, neither are visible,

Love is clearly apprehendable,

Confidence gained is greatly helpful.

 This is Me.

How wonderful this happiness I never knew,

I thank God saying, “Thank you Lord for all you do,”

And he smiled and said, “Celina, all because I love you.”

                                                                                 I Am Me.