You say my past doesn't matter to you; you never knew that me.
But these scars on my arms and legs, though they are from the past, they are me.
And that depression I told you was gone? It is still here, still me.
That girl who cannot trust you enough to do a trust fall, that's me.
So when I show you my arms and say this is me, don't you dare look away.
My past made me who I am today. My past is me.