The Me Suit 2

So long to the me
I wore,
living in the shadow
of another self;
comfortable in my discomfort.

We struggle to be rid of one another.

The superficial self,
grown from the wants and wishes of others,
the clingy infant of me
peeks around the corner of change
and quickly retreats to the me I wear.

The me suit no longer fits; the collar chafes
and the waist is too tight to breathe.

Every time I pull off
the jacket
the air is too cool
so I pull on my famiiar sweater
and each time another step toward me.