No longer am I the girl labeled. No longer will I be defined by the names you choose and stick upon me or my image. No longer, as in has been. Has been, as in I have let you. “Dry your tears, there are worse things in life.” Worse things then not wanting life at all? You say move on and I haven’t even showed up. I’m a figment of some person everyone decided I should be, what YOU decided I should be. But no, no longer.

A rose. An illustration for your mind. I am rooted into the ground, embedded with thorns. Thorns: A form of protection. The thorn is to protect the blooming flower from being deteriorated and broken down by the cruel creatures and world around it. For the thorns are not all we see. We see the petals, we smell the aroma, we feel the velvet, SO WHY CAN YOU NOT SENSE MY PETALS. You would choose my thorns over my petals any day, and I am all plucked out. You play “she loves me, she loves me not,” and I do not even love myself.

For a rose is an illustration, it can not show emotion. I can no longer show emotion. Bitter, broken, and burnt out, I struggle to stand. And when it got so dark, and I could not soak up the rays of happiness; I felt terminated. Until a water drop coasted down my spine, the figurative stem of my rose, and I felt comforted. Powerful. I realized something beautiful. From Jocelyn Flores and 1–800, I knew my purpose. “No more trippin on things i can’t change.” I listen to these artist that put my thoughts to lyrics, and I can’t fathom or imagine others felt this way. These artist are finding who they are…

I know who i am.

I am hard headed, and frankly loud at times i shouldn’t be. I would eat Taco Bell for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if i was allowed to. I love those who love me. I want to grow every day and make sure today is better then the last, because i’m not going to settle. And EVERY day i will strive to be who i REALLY, TRULY, am, because I’m not the things you think or say. No longer will i stand to be those things. No longer.

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