I am not who I once was.
I am awake to the truth
of bitter mistakes.
Let go-
how I would love to let go
but the memory
of wayward wrongdoing
digs deep within,
burrowing in my brain.
You have grown old
-withered like an unwatered houseplant.
See, I am not like you
I am outside in the weather,
and the sun, and the rain
and the rocky terrain:
They were my friends,
when, on you, I could not depend.
I Am Not Alone!
