Finding myself again

Sometimes I am not myself,
Sometimes I don’t even know what being myself means,
Vain, shallow, stupid,
So fucking indecisive,
So fucking misunderstood,
Sometimes I am not my best,
But I expect that I should be.

Then I remind myself that it’s not fair
I remind myself to be patient, to be kind,
Maybe it’s time to be alone,
Ah, this solitude – this guilty bliss
The temporary freedom
to be anything and nothing
Just so I can hope to be myself again.

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