You're not your age,

Nor the size you wear.

You're not your weight,

Or the color of your hair.

You're not your name,

Or the dimples on your cheeks.

You are all the books you read,

And all the words you speak.

You are your croaky morning voice,

And the smiles you try to hide.

You are the sweetness in your laughter

And every tear you've cried.

You are the songs you sing so loudly

When you know you're all alone.

You are the places that you've been to,

And the ones that you call home.

You are the thing that you believe in.

You are the photos in your bedroom

And the future you dream of.

You are made up of so much beauty.

But it seems that you forgot

When you decided that you are defined,

By all the things you are not.