Who am I?

Who am I?

What makes up me?

What is my identity?

Is it my name?

My age?

Or where I was born?

The bones I have broken?

Or the muscles I've torn?

Is it my family?

My friends?

Or maybe my enemies?

I don't know what makes me well me.

If people ask me

"Who are you?"

I don't know what to say

My name?

But that's not unique

others have it too, that's not me

My age?

Yeah because the amount of years

I've been alive is that special

My birth town?

Is it really that important?
For I could have lived somewhere else

for much longer

I don't know who I am

I don't know who I'm meant to be

I'm just an unknown girl

with an unknown identity

The answer is unclear

surrounded by mist

I think I can just about see it

To know who I am would be bliss

What?

Everything is me?

I don't understand.

Nothing about me is special

everything about me is not unique

But what if that's it?

What if all the aspects of me alone

are nothing

but together they define me

My curly hair which I refuse to straight

doesn't define my life

but it's part of my identity

My short figure which I can't seem to grow out of

doesn't define me as a whole

but it's included in my identity

I may listen to Fall Out Boy

every day

but many others do

that isn't my identity

It's everything else plastered with it.

The fact I'm a 15 year old girl with curly hair and glasses, with a small figure and a love for pizza, the fact I blog and write stories and enjoy poetry, the fact I love music, especially rock, the games I play, the friends I make, what I wear, the length of my nails, all these things may not define me alone.

But united- they are my identity.

-Minoo