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.