When my days are over and my breath has gone
Will it really matter that I loved so wrong?
Will you dwell on the failures I seemed to repeat.
And recount the times where life had me beat?

When my skin and my bones are all that remain
Will you wish I had lived a life more mundane?
Will you look at my photos and feel sorry for me
Since I wasn’t the person you hoped I would be?

Will it matter that my body didn’t fit in your form,
My skin stretched and scarred, beat up by the storm?
Will you care that I burdened my poor, heavy heart,
As I beat myself up for not looking the part?

Will you think back and wonder why again and again,
I was the right kind of girl for the wrong kind of men?
Will you rehash the stories where I couldn’t be strong,
Or will you try to remember why I hurt for so long?

Please just try to remember, as you remember me
That I wasn’t as strong as I hoped I’d be
And I wasn’t the person that I could have been
But I woke up each morning and I tried to again.