Poem: I Miss Me

I miss the me who used to smile
At nothing much, and all the while
Carried wonder in my chest,
A restless heart that couldn’t rest.

I miss the me who dared to dream,
Who chased the sky and swam upstream—
Before the world grew sharp and loud,
Before I bent beneath the crowd.

I miss the way I used to dance,
Unaware of every glance;
The voice I had, untrained, unshy,
The spark that lit without a why.

I miss the me with open hands,
Who didn’t need to understand—
Just trusted time and tasted air,
Believed the world would always care.

I miss me—not in some old place,
But in the light behind my face.
Still there, I hope, beneath the strain,
A quiet ember in the rain.

And maybe, piece by piece, I’ll find
The threads I lost, the ties that bind—
And gently gather back the part
Of me that knew how to restart.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie