The roads I’ve walked down lost are the ones that meant the most
Having conversations with my ghost
The one who is always nearby
But acts as if she’s shy
Lost in the rain I found myself
The real me that I left on the shelf
Like a book never read
Just left there for dead
I almost forgot how exciting and funny my pages were
I didn’t need to be someone else, I didn’t need to be her
“Be yourself” is what my ghost said
As I took my personality and started to shred
I answered that ‘myself’ is she who fucked it all first
And brought me to the time that was worst
But now I see that to heal the wounds made by me
I have to stop being someone else if I want to be free
So walking down the road lost
With the morning frost
I picked up the Great Book of Me
Wiped the tears from my eyes and learned how to see