The pain drives me.
The anger drives me.
You tell me not to be superficial,
when throughout my whole life,
I was weak.

Through my whole life,
I was abused.

Through my whole life,
men took advantage of me.

And now,
nothing is left
but pieces
and regret
and so much
frustration

no one is telling me what to do.

You think you know me
but you don't.

Why am I the way that I am?
Because history made me that way.