The Secret Of Who I Am



I’ve spent countless hours distressed over who I want to be,

an abundance more puzzling over who I am now.

The tides of change have washed over my head,

flooding the deepest corners of my cautious soul.

Waves crash onto the shores of my dreams,

taking innocence, leaving fragments of what I might have been.

Oceans call me away from shore,

demanding I be something more.

My anxieties are riptides, wrapping around skinny ankles,

stealing my breath, overwhelming my thoughts,

I became the puppet. My mistakes the puppeteer.

Whispered winds tug on my hair again.

They sing and play, awakening wild spirits within my soul.

The sun sets, an eruption of color inside my creativity,

painted skies in my plain eye.

The line between mistake and choice blurs.

The blood from my wounds guides the path through my past.

I recall my desperation to give in to the calling of the sea,

I did not desire to battle with it anymore.

But I had people to love, and places to go.

The numbness could keep no hold on my heart.

To this day I can hear the faint cry of the ocean,

pleading for me to return to where it believes

I belong.

But I know who I am,

I know I am not the reprehensions nor scoldings of society,

I am not the value of my grades,

I am not the polaroid of the blissful girl whose innocent eyes do not recognize pain,

That girl is no longer me.

I am the worth of a thousand bright stars in my shining eyes,

I am the wild dance which tames the raging beast,

the flame which continues to flicker through every dark night and blazing day.

I am the beat of a bird’s wings behind my ribcage.

I have become more than the sharp edge of words that should have never been spoken,

and more than the burning of words unsaid.

Abandonment does not define me. Courage does not define me.

My ability to stand with buckling knees and trembling legs divides my path between war seeker and warrior,

and I have chosen the latter.

I have found my face ground in the dirt,

my tears have carved pathways down my cheeks.

My hands, calloused and bloody, too small to catch all of the pains I shouldn’t have to keep.

I have stood composed, in a world of love and a world of hate.

My sacrifices bold weights bearing on my small shoulders.

I am learning to wear them proudly.

Through these ripples in life I have not found, but rather have created the person in which I have become.

In truth, I spent so much time fretting over who I will be,

I’d forgotten exactly who I was.

My faith guided my footsteps across rocky paths,

and I have found my way home.

The ocean can call my name for the rest of my days,

but I promise, I will not stray, I swear I’ll stay.

For I am my soul.

I am more than one word,

Fervent displays of emotions,

combatant and strong willed.

Warrior.

This is the secret of who I am.



 


 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

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