still that version of me

“i have changed so much but i can’t change myself i’ve rearranged the edges of me yet the center stays untouched on the shelf i changed all the habits of me every morning routine, every call but no matter how i shift the pieces the mirror still catches it all i don’t text first anymore i don’t beg anyone to stay i’ve grown quiet in all the places i once used to pour my heart away i don’t cry where people can see i smile just enough to pass but the hurt still sneaks through silence like a shadow on the glass i walk past the places we met with headphones in, eyes down but every streetlight whispers your name across this town i’ve learned to let go i’ve learned to forgive i’ve even learned to sleep but i still don’t know how to live i dress different, speak soft, pretend i’m doing fine i wear confidence like perfume but none of it feels like mine i laugh at the right moments i say “i’m good” when asked but i’m still that version of me who couldn’t make love last who stayed too long in empty rooms and wrote poems instead of prayers who clung to ghosts in daylight and found comfort in despair yes, i have changed so much from the outside, you’d never guess but beneath the practiced smiles is a heart that’s still a mess so don’t ask me who i’ve become or praise how strong i seem to be because beneath every layer of healing i’m still that version of me —the one who loved too hard and broke without a sound the one who learned to stand but still stares at the ground”