I hate what I've become

shabby, emotionless and often in the market for relief

washing my beautiful face in public water, eww!

could never be the ME I imagined. This is not who I imagined.

Tall, beautiful, well-spoken and sort after,

classy, lovely to look upon and happy

I got played and I don't play games

Fearful is not who I am

Not the me in my head and I continue to die daily because I know that this is not who I am.

I can feel me, I can hear me, yearning for me to become me and to leave me in order to reach me

I've been running but my legs are getting tired

I'm trying but my heart is failing

I've been hiking and my knees are gone

my throat is dry and my eyes are filled with dust but I won't stop until I become me and if I die without success, throw my corpse to the stray dogs because a human didn't die, an empty pile of fil

th just fell.