Reasons I'M Me

Reasons I’m me She had no more hope. For what is there to hope for if you can’t be you? She yearned. She wished for someone to understand. But no one ever did. She was to scared to take a blade to her skin so she dug her nails into her flesh instead. That girl was me. Mom the reason I never told you anything was because I didn’t want advice. I wanted someone to listen, someone who won’t judge me for what I say, I spend so much time on the internet because it keeps me alive. It keeps me from dying on the inside out. I’m on the internet so much because someone talks to me. They are a counselor. I may only know there first name but they know more about me then you ever will. Because the internet is the reason I’m still sane the reason I’m still happy. I needed someone to get me out of this hole I dug for myself each lonely night. I needed someone to give me a reason to live. When you took away a book I was reading because it talked about gay relationships it made me cry myself to sleep for two months. I was so scared of being me that I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror anymore. I was more scared of living than dying. But if I had told you that, you would have whisked me away to therapy, you would have made this about you. Listen now mother, I spend some much time on the internet because it's the reason I’m still alive it’s the reason you still have a daughter. I talk to a website with someone who listens. Someone who doesn't judge me, someone who is there for me, a shoulder to cry on. That mother is the reason I’m alive. You never realized that when you took away my phone and laptop you took away the one place where I could be me. The one place I am the unforgivably me is in my writing. It's the reason I can control what I say because my real thoughts lie in my poetry but my filtered thoughts come out when talking to friends, and family. Because this is me. The unfiltered me. The me that thinks deeply and the me that thinks about things that you try to shelter me from and the me that can't control myself because writing is the only thing I have left to turn too. Mother hear me, I love you. I always will. But a pencil will always be a better listener.