read these words carefully,
for they could be
the last ones you see
from me,
eyes feeling dry
from the million tears
i’ve cried,
tryna find a place
to run and hide,
all these thoughts
circling my mind,
feeling nothing
but pain inside,
can’t make it
go away,
living out
my last few days,
looking back
on the ways
i could’ve done more,
told her how i felt
before it was too late,
stopped the cycle
of self-hate,
stood up for myself
and built the confidence
i desperately needed,
should’ve never waited,
but my clock is ticking,
so hear out
my dying words:
at least
i was me
authentically,
i made mistakes
and pushed some away,
i never became
the person
i wanted to be
or the person
you needed me to be,
i never made it
as far as i could’ve,
but at least
i was me,
and hopefully,
that version of me
was good enough for some,
when the day comes
where i’m gone,
celebrate what i made,
don’t cry or feel shame,
make a toast
to the content soldier,
the poetry king,
honor the legacy i leave,
because i know
they’ll remember the name.
matt anderson.
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