I am not you
I am not your height
or weight
or the way you wake up in the morning
I am not the way you comb your hair
or drive a car

I don’t know what keeps you up at night
or what makes you so unconditionally happy
you cant wait to tell your friend about
or what things will break your heart in a second
I am not the labels you have appointed to yourself
and Im not the tears you cry over those labels

I am however, the daughter of an Italian mother
and an Irish father.
I’m the sister to a heartbroken girl
because she experimented with her heart to much
And trusted the same people
One to many times

A sister to two boys
who know to much for their own good.
I’m a backstabbing friend
to loyal people
But a loyal friend
To backstabbing people

I’m a walking statue painted with labels
hurt, laughter, experiences that others can't attest to
I am the girl who claims to have it all together,
in the hope I will before society finds out otherwise
I am a person apart of the same routine
but always altering it so I am not like everyone else

I am a person with a medicine cabinet in their bathroom
Filled with orange bottles, that are then filled with white pills
That is filled with pills to un-numb me
Maybe this fake smile will hide the real hurt
I am a person with more anti-depressants in my body,
Than there is blood

I am another person
given an expectation that I know I will never meet
I am a person who fakes it until they make it
because that's why we are all here
to see who can make it through the adventure of life
no matter how much they have to fake.