I am forgetful.
I forget the things I just said or thought.
I forget the moments that are pivotal to others, but not to me.
I forget some people I’ve met and grew up with.

but I never forget the words that stung me, the words that healed me, the words that made me grow.
I never forget the people who changed me and helped me mold myself to who I am now.
I never forget who I am and who I want to be.

I keep it in my heart, deep within my mind, the things I want to remember unconsciously drifting about inside my head.



“Look how pretty you are!” She tells herself as she smiles at her reflection in the mirror. She was admittedly vain, but deep within she knew she was afraid.
She was always worried of saying the wrong things that she ends up letting careless words slip out. The fear builds and grows on her. Every stare she gets pierces through her like a spear coated with poison.
When will she gain the confidence to spread her wings?
She wondered “will I forever be mediocre?”.



“I am confident, and then I am not.
I am brave, and then I am not.
I am kind, but am I always?”

I feel my passion pulsating through my veins, it yearns to be fulfilled.
But how am I to do so, if I am not always who I want myself to be?
Always dreaming never living.
Only sometimes does the girl walk on the pathway.
The meadows seemed to call out to her, there she is safe, she is confident, she is brave, and always kind.