Alex mclean's "r.i.p" is written like a eulogy, but the person being buried is the speaker's own former self. The opening lines talk about "someone who we once loved dearly," so it feels like a stranger is being remembered, until the shift to "the old me" reveals who has really died. That earlier self was kind, bubbly and generous, and the poem suggests other people resented her brightness, even doubting it was real.
The speaker then describes growing "older" and "colder." The same people who disliked her cheerfulness now complain she is closed off, which feels unfair and a little ironic. Her cold glare says what she no longer bothers to put into words.
The mood is bitter and tired, but not completely hard. The last line, "And oh how i'll miss her cheesy jokes," lets some grief and tenderness slip through. The speaker seems to protect herself now, yet still misses the person she had to leave behind.