I’m opinionated
Even when I’m not right
I believe I am
I’m dark
I’m not fond of glee
I hide in shadows
I’m hypocritical
I scold, reprimand
Then turn around and ignore my own words
I have enemies
Who’d love to stab me
Love to shake a finger in my face
I have friends
Who love me for who I am
Not who they want me to be
I’m a writer
Gossamer words spilling from my pen
I’m a singer
Delicate notes shattering like glass
I’m a daughter, sister, friend
A shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold
I’m a teenager
An awkward hybrid of child and adult
But mostly
I am myself
The only me that will ever exist