Look at me,
so young and already worn and torn,
ripped and mended.

Pieces of me scattered,
parts of me broken,
nothing of which has been left whole.
Pulled into to many directions,
Pushed into too little places.

Unforgetting,
and struggling to let go.
Ignorant, tired of excuses.
Vulnerable, but defensive.
Trusting, but tired of living in a world of lies.

Confident and scared,
Understanding and confused.
Tired and restless.

On the inside giving in,
On the outside holding back.
To me I am pathetic.
To you I am strong and mysterious.
To Both, I am a person never to be completely understood.

Look at me,
lying on the floor like a quilt,
worn and torn,
ripped and mended.
Pieces of me scattered,
Parts of me broken,
nothing of which is completely whole.