What I am not

I am not

what you see, or hear, or read about.

No one is, you know.

I am

B

R

O

K

E

N

but I am not weak. I am

hing

urt

but I don’t need your comfort. I am me.

I can do this thing, this pitiable and desperate task called

living. Even when death knocks,

I will not go without screaming, my hands glued to the doorframe.

Even on those days you see me

alone. Crying,

mascara running, breaths

uncertain. Know that i will not let this defeat me. I will challenge

this thing called

life. These tears are

scars

and these moments of falling

A

P

A

R

T

are my armor. I am a

warrior. I will not be overcome.

I will fight

because i have learned why

life is worth living. It is for the

moments of strength

when I peel myself off the dirty floor, covered

In snot and tears and raw skin and torn nails

And decide to stand up and look

in the

Mirror. At me.

Take a hard look.