Narcissist.

Am I supposed to be me or you
inside?
And why is it you who gets to decide?

My me.My soul.My heart.My all.
How would my me
make you so small?

Could you ever know the pain
you’ve caused?
The scars that pull, the loves we’ve lost?

Yet, I remember to forgive your rage
forget your
self
then turn my page.

Your say.Your way.Your me.Your she.
No.

My me is more than yours could ever be.

“I see a flower doing its best to remember how to bloom,”
Thank you, Stef. I so needed to hear that.

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