I can build a new personality, like a sculptor shaping the clay of life

I can build a new personality, like a sculptor shaping the clay of life, But I feel the gaze of who I once was, watching me from the shadow of memories, I try to bury her, but my hands weaken when digging deep into the past, And I cannot burn her, for the flames would leave scars on my fragile soul. She clings to me like a ghost that refuses to leave, whispering all I want to forget, So I carry her with me, an echo of my steps, a weight that does not dissipate, Dragging her along on every journey, until she finds nowhere else to fly, And she sinks deep into me, like a river flowing through the cracks of my new self. I try to become something more, to embrace my future with open arms, But she settles in my fissures, a silent resident in the heart of change, And in this struggle between who I was and who I want to become, I dance on a thin line, Trying to find balance between the shadow of the past and the light of the coming day. Perhaps, in time, I will learn to accept her, to integrate her as part of me, To build a strong foundation from fragments of the old and the new, And thus, to bloom like a flower finding its roots in the soil of wholeness, In a dance of transformation, an endless poem of my becoming.