Six Pages

Six pages.

I have six pages

Of scattered words,

Broken rhymes, 

Unhinged ideas of identity,

And fake confidence. 

"I know who I am,”

The poems struggle to say.

Sure, I know who I am. 

I'm not worried, 

Not about that,

But what about who I was,

Who I will be? 

If I can change so fast, 

Who am I, really? 

What does any of it mean?

Six pages 

Of trying to understand myself, 

Of brain battles,

Of tangling myself around.

I'm a spider 

Caught in my own web. 

What have I found?

Nothing.

I'm more confused than ever. 

I've only learned that I,

Whoever I am,

Am my own worst enemy.

I still have six pages.

Six pages

That I'm trying to unscramble,

Six pages

That I will figure out.

Six pages

Can't get the best of me.

Whoever I am,

I'm determined.

Six pages

Don't stand a chance.

Sections: Confused, Free Verse, Growing Up, Poetry, Real Characters, Sad, Worries, Writers