Free Verse: Who I Am

I lie, to no-one
But Myself.
Honesty, harder
Than most other things

I choose not to write,
Not because I have no inspiration
But because I am afraid.

A lack of desire
To open up
Even if just to myself.
The introspection which comes
From limitless creativity
Can overwhelm
A chaotic mind.

Yes, I have known,
But not,
For the longest time.

My current mindset
So deeply ingrained
Within my life.

Change is required,
But to change
A mind changes
A person.

What would I change?

Where I live?
Where I work?
My hobbies, my studies…
All aspects of my day to day life.

If these things changed
Would I be the same person,
Or would new experience
A new person?

My own desires feel selfish,
Wanting to be happy
Leaves me feeling guilt
To much guilt to try
To Change


I was born to care
I myself
Am nothing.

With no purpose
Other than to ensure
The happiness of others
A facilitator of need
Any need
Other than my own.

I wish I had purpose
I wish I had passion
I am the embodiment
Of Nothingness.
A void, unfilled.
Creates nothing
But disappointment.

I am worthless.

My mind
Turns to thoughts
Of suicide.
Not as a course of
Action, but as an option.

Like a preparation,
For an option, I know,
I will always have.


It’s easier,
To write that word
Than it should be.

I suppose that is
The scary part
Of depression.
Reckless self-preservation,
The catalyst,
An irrational mind.

I can’t
Feel happy,
Because happiness
Eludes me.

Soon things will change,
It is inevitable.
And as changes occur,
Perhaps too many
All at once,
You will change too.

Haunted by words,
Never dared to be spoken
Aloud, but in my mind
They are shouted
On repeat.

Are the words that haunt us,
Ever worth reflecting on?

It is hard.
Yet I know,
I will move away
From this way of thinking
And likely soon.

As changes occur
So to will I,
Cease to be.
The version of myself,
That I am.

I am strong.
I am passionate.
I am dedicated.
I am…I am…


That word.
Why does it always linger
At the back of my mind.

I feel it sometimes
My soul
Tarnished, broken
Beyond repair.

I feel like the damned.
Perhaps my penance,
Self-imposed though it is
Serves as punishment.

To serve others,
Showing them the route
To happiness
But finding none myself.

I hate myself.
Not all of the time,
But often enough,
To still be concerning.

I am harrowed,
But by neither fear,
Nor wonder.

Life is but a shade,
Upon a broad spectrum,
And I,
Too close to the edge,
Am lost
In the grey monotones
Of life.

Life just left me
On Pause.

I walked away
And fear
I will not return.
Yet, if I may
Choose to return
I hope that I can
Start living
The life I have always wanted.

I just wish I knew
How to be

I have questioned
The aspects of evil
Which plague me
They are vague
And intangible.

This outburst of sorrow
Is not a true reflection
Of anything.
It should inform,
No reason
For decisions
Yet to be made.

Whilst in this state of mind,
My catalyst for introspection
A haze of drugs
And alcohol,
Offer me no truths.
In their reflection
Instead, you are left
Shut off, and unable
To deal with life
In a productive way

And so I find myself,
Looking to change.
To find a way
To deal with life
Becoming part
Of the life
I am living

The relationship
Of most importance
The one you have,
With yourself.

From within
Prepares you to change.

Holding on to the life
You have had
Stops you
From taking the hand
Of the life you want.

Being one person.
Doing one thing.
Leading one life.

I need to begin
To find out,
Who I am.

Who am I?

A question,
That shouldn’t be so hard,
To answer.

2 thoughts on “Free Verse: Who I Am

Add yours

  1. “We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.” — T.S. Eliot

Leave a Reply

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: