new girl/ 82

I’m not the same girl I used to be. 

I’m no longer the butter, melting

on command, no longer the 

sweet lullaby, the rain, the moon,

the stars, the cliche- I’m no longer

the girl I used to be.

I used to shrink, used to wrap my

thoughts in cling film, used to 

deep frost my bravery, used to

cut away the parts of me

that I thought were too harsh. 

too loud. Too unabashedly myself.

I used to use you as an excuse,

used to look for love in every 

crevice I could- other people 

were rooms for me to ransack,

I stripped them bare looking 

for things I could only find

in myself, and I asked them to

define me- the quiet girl, the reader,

the slut, the drinker, the debater,

the smart one, the dumb one,

the lost one.

Labels were slapped on me

with the casual callousness 

youth displays, and I let them be-

I used to be malleable. 

I was the clay, waiting to be

moulded, the water, flowing freely

in a stream, the sun, cutting 

an arc across the sky- I used 

to be nothing. 

I used to be everything. 

And now, now I am the blade,

a scythe in the night, the fierce 

roar of a wild animal, I am the

ruler of my own planet. The sun 

of my own skies, not yours. 

Not theirs. 

I am brutal and brash- a battle cry 

echoing in the sky, I am 

loud, the cacophony of a city 

melding into a sweet harmony, I am

what I want to be, when I want to

be- and yes, I am no longer 

the girl I used to be,

because now,

now I know how to live for myself.

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