Message To Me
Dear me of the past
The me that couldn’t last.
You folded in shadows and learned how to bend,
But breaking was never supposed to be the end.
You were molded, changed, rose from the ash,
Yet now all you do is hide behind a mask.
You paint on smiles with trembling hands,
build paper walls and call them plans.
You speak in echoes, laugh on cue,
But no one hears the real you.
You say that you’re fine while knowing you’re not,
You prance around while living with rot
That’s eating away from deep within
The absence of truth in your soul is a sin
But still, you rise with each aching breath,
a quiet rebellion in the arms of death.
You drag your shadow through dawn's slow grace,
longing for light to kiss your face.
Yet, here I am writing to you
The version of me that was beaten and abused
Do not quit, I know you’re a fighter
The darkest of times can only get brighter
You walked through fires no one could see,
carried pain like it was stitched into memory.
But oh, poor boy with weathered skin,
don’t you know healing begins within?
The mirror may haunt you with all you’ve survived,
But scars are proof that you’re still alive.
You’ve loved with a heart that was never whole,
gave pieces away just to feel like a soul.
But now, now, I see you clearer each day,
a warrior dressed in shades of gray.
Not broken. Not lost. Just not yet done.
Your story's still being carved by the sun.
Copyright © Darius McQueen | Year Posted 2026
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