I wrote this for school last year, and I rather like it, though I'm not completely sure to which genre it belongs.
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You used to know me.
We used to be very close.
But now, I watch from afar as you
accept the bottle from the people who call themselves your friends.
accept the pill from the stranger.
accept the false words said to you.
allow the boy to beat you black and blue.
allow the others to make choices for you.
allow the people to push me further and further away...
You probably don't remember me.
But I'm still here, and I'm what
helps you not fail.
helps you not loose hope.
helps you keep a small part of your identity.
keeps you from falling down.
keeps you from slipping away.
keeps you from loosing all control—from loosing all of me.
I'm the real you.
I'm not the you that allowed other people to create you a new identity.
I'm not the you who would change just to fit in—not the you who would make bad choices.
I'm the genuine you, and I'm still here.
You just have to find me.
