It Wasn't Me Anymore (#2)

The chattering of crowds is loud

It's hard to find one person in them. 

If I survive I die - 

My friends become my enemies. 

They want me to be thin and sexy

Acceptance is discarded, and I am outcast

The whispering of gossip is shameful

The desire to hear is frightening

Like the words the use to ruin me, 

Whether or not they hold the facts, 

Without knowing how it all started, 

Truth is our lost institution.

The acceptance of others is desirable 

I sold my soul to play the part

Along the way it shattered. 

It wasn't me in the mirror anymore. 

The outside being false corrupted the inside

I hate what I've become, but say nothing. 

...

The essence of individuality is sacred

I should have been my own me. 

I vow I will change, 

As I'm weeping... because choosing to be me

Means choosing to be alone.