Please do not tell me I am not who I am,
Though my worth has dwindled
From the girl I have been.
Heavy winds free my soul,
Sweep me up into your storm.
Self awareness formed this bridge,
And now I pay the toll.
To know oneself truly,
Cuts deep into shallow skin,
Fresh blood pools in waves,
Crashing and burning deep within.
Who am I, I now ask,
The naysayer who tore me in half,
The disbeliever who crushed my spirit,
The false friend who would not hear it.
Those around me,
Who pocket my blame,
In a coat, on a rainy day,
Disappear behind glass windows
Of the house I call my home.
In my home, which I call safe.
Spiteful souls, there are none.
But as a I gaze into the mirror,
And look upon my broken face,
I see the truth reflecting back,
Behind the barrel of a gun.