I don't know who I am.
I don't know why I smile at
Mrs. Next-door's daughter.
I don't know why I wake up
Crying
At 3:26 AM. I think -
I think I'm scared.
I am scared to know why I hate my hips.
I am scared to know why my sister's laugh makes me  
Cheer up.
I am scared to know who I am - what if she (me)
Isn't who I though she (me) was?
Every single person who anyone will ever meet,
Every man, woman, and child on the train,
On the street, in a chapel or a classroom or
At the beach - is scared.
I'm not sure why we're scared. It just kinda
Happens.
I want it to stop. I want that pretty girl in the red,
Polka-dot dress to stop crying,
I want that young man with the troubled uneasiness of a secret
In his eyes to come out of the closet
Stop second guessing your heart.
**** it, find yourself.
I sit and stare out of rain-streaked windows.
I still don't know who I am.