My bathroom scale shows 138 pounds,
But it's 18 pounds too much,
18 pounds too fat for "beautiful."
My Facebook profile says I have 528 friends,
But I only know five of them.
My latest post on Tumblr got 34 notes,
But it's not enough to make me popular.
My math test has 78% circled in bright red ink,
It's a C+, two letters and 22% short of "I'm proud of you."
My shirt was $4.00 at a thrift store,
But it's $46.00 and one brand name short of "cute."
There are six scars on each of my wrists,
And even more on my mind.
There is one tear on my cheek for every pill I have to take,
And one headache for every doctor I see.
But these are just numbers,
They are not me.
I am the smile on pink lips,
I am the giggling laugh at a good friend's joke.
I am the fan-girl on the internet,
And the fan-fiction author.
I am the bookworm and the violinist,
The swimmer and the food-lover.
I am AC/DC cranked up loud,
And 2Cellos playing soft.
I am a daughter, a sister, a lover, a friend.
I am a student in high school,
And a teen with big dreams.
I am complicated.
I am not defined by the numbers in my life,
But by my smile, and laugh, and love for music.
I am a person with hopes, and dreams, and wishes too.
I feel happy, and sad, and hopeful, and tired.
I do not live within the boundaries of my latest test,
Or how many likes my status gets,
But within the limits of my heart and my dreams.