The speaker of "Anymore" is talking to someone from their past, probably an ex or a person they've lost, and refusing to be the cheerful, eager version of themselves that this person once wanted. The opening lines set the tone: a wary, tired voice saying "that's just not me anymore." Jokes and smiles are on show, but the speaker admits they're only a cover for the wall behind which they hide.
The poem leans on contrasts. The other person stands "in the warmth of the sun" while the speaker lives among "winds that freeze the soul." One walks, the other runs. Yet the speaker also claims strength, saying they will "blaze my own trail" and be proud of arriving alone. That pride sits uneasily beside the final images of a "tortured mind," a "battered soul," and a "broken heart." The mood is defiant but raw, and the closing plea, "just let me go," suggests the independence is partly armor over real hurt.