Ask me who I am, unless you think you already know, but if you think you know, don’t ask me anything at all. Because if you have the mind that sums someone up based on all the ways they are not like you, then I don’t want to know you.
So, ask me who I am. I will tell you that I am not this battle in my bones that makes me fight ten times harder than you just to make it through the day. I will tell you I am not the mask of this material bullshit exterior facade that can pull you in and invite you to stay. No.
I am the outside of me, turned inside out, the inside of me scrambled into pieces of a hurricane without a name, begging you to just leave.
I will tell you I am not the label handed out so freely from the assumptions made by people who only think in short cuts. I am the long route, the hard route, the perfect it all or self-destruct route.
I am the one who bends into my own breaking for the ones who never bend at all. I am the one who learns everything the hard way because the easy way never leads to a lesson worth learning.
I am my heart that pounds so hard for anything I am passionate about, sometimes it takes off running without me, but I chase it.
I am the hope keeping these dreams alive that didn’t make it, the wishes made on a long shot of maybe the stars were listening.
I am not a pretty face, a name that ends here or some kind of walking catastrophe that just gave up because the sky was the wrong color.
I am the story you don’t know, the one that you never could understand, because I am more than the cover of what you judge me by. I am not you. Ask me who I am. I will tell you, I am the flower who ripped up through a tiny crack in the concrete to say, I am here and I made it, whether you ever believed in me or not, I STILL GREW WITHOUT YOU.