Your choices are what make you

If that's the case, I'm made of poor decisions and frequent fears

I'm a half-hearted concotion of anxious sweat and tears

I tear, gnash at the things that pull me back

Then retreat to bed and put my smile on the rack.

I undress myself from my skin

And I wonder what this mess is, and how I got in.

I have choices to make

Roads to take

Miles to go, smiles to fake.

I cannot be held back by love or fear,

And I move steadily towards the finish line till I find it approaching near.

Maybe then I can look back on this

On this mess and confusion and stress,

And say my choices didn't make me

I pulled them from a power within.

And I will be able to rest easy knowing

My choices didn't make me,

I made them.