I am not the harsh words of insecure bullies from third grade

I am not the cruel laughter of my classmates watching me get tripped on the playground

I am not the pitiful words from my middle school counselor,

I am not the teasing words from my brother

I am not the rejection from a boy when I asked him to a dance

i am not my report card being held in my shaking hands, wondering why I can't do better

I am not depricating thoughts my mind throws at me when I look in the mirror

I am not the neglect my mother showed me as a child

I am not my past

I am strong