Why do I let things get to me so easily?
Why do I always allow people to break me down?
I am so weak from everything I’ve been carrying, all the things I’ve held in, and all the things people have said, that make me feel so worthless.
I know who I am, and I know what kind of person I am..
But I question all of it when I am told that I need to.
People will tell me what I am, and I will accept it, and forget who I thought I was.
I will begin to know myself as the stranger they described me as.
I will fear my reflection, and will be unable to recognize the pale and tired girl staring back.
I don’t know who I am anymore.