Fierce.

Independent.

That is who I want to be,

That is who they think I am.

But as I travel farther into my mind,

I realize I am not.

Maybe I am weak.

Maybe I should listen to my mother,

But I cannot.

I cannot be the good girl she always wanted.

I have to defy her

Because she would have never accepted me anyway.

I am just a girl.

A girl trapped in this overdeveloped body

That everyone sees before my brain.

They stare

And whisper,

But never ask how I feel.

And somehow

Mom says it is my fault.

Maybe she is trying to protect me.

Maybe she knows how it feels,

But what have I done, Mom?

What have I done to deserve this?

I cannot understand it,

But neither can she.

I hope one day she will see what she has done

And maybe one day I will understand.

But now is not that time,

So I have to put on this mask,

Pretend to be the girl everyone sees,

Because inside I know who I am. 

Weak.

Insecure. 

But they do not have to know,

And I do not have to show them.