So much of the person I am today was made from the wreckage I won’t let go of. It’s become louder than my own voice.
I try to be accepted because I was rejected.
I try to be loud because I was invisible.
I try to be memorable because I was forgotten.
I try to be strong because I was vulnerable.
I try to be perfect because I was not enough.
There is an emptiness that this world not only cannot fill, but one that it also creates. I reflect the heartbreak of sin.
Deep down, beyond this identity, there’s a lost girl still trying to figure out who she was before you.
