MBT #9: Really Angsty 13 Year-Old Poetry

Lost
February 5, 2003

I never saw it coming,
I thought it would never end.
For the past few months you have been my life.
My past, my present, my future.
I depended on you for everything.
How can you not remember
all those memories shared together?
I loved you, you loved me.
You now leave me with tears not cried,
and words not said.
But now everything's different.
I'm independent and feel beautiful.
I feel perfect.
When I lost you, I found myself.
All I have to say is,
"Thanks."

It's heartbreaking hilarious and embarrassing to read my old poetry. I think I managed to hit almost every cliche (no mention of withering rose. yet.)It vexes me to think that this is really what I was about 5 years ago, that my existence revolved around a fellow fickle middle schooler in self-induced deceit, delusion, and superficiality.

And this really makes me wonder what I will think of myself 5 years from now. Will I be able to laugh at myself? Will I be proud of the person I am now? Will I be still remain unable to resist making fun of 13 year-olds?

Because it doesn't seem like that much has changed since I wrote this poem. I rush to any glimmer of instant gratification. My immaturity stunts my failed attempts to love others without expecting anything in return. I live for the temporal because the thought of life beyond myself terrifies me. And this is what gives me hope because 5 years ago, I would not have made that confession.
Even if it was online.