I am what I am. I am a perfectionist with OCD, of the self diagnosed variety, and while the trash on the floor of my room doesn't seem to support my diagnostic skills...it's those times when I watch where I walk in order to avoid nearly breaking my mother's back that I know I belong in that exclusive box of obsessive compulsives. Although not in the medical sense.
 
I am what I am. I use big words. Not so that I look cool. But because I like how they sound and how they summarize my thoughts. And while my friends and teachers may ride me off as fake or unimpressive, I don't speak to please others.

I am what I am. I am a daytime non-carer. But believe me when the sky goes black my brain rewinds the day in very slow motion and can't help but pick apart my every flaw — the ones other pointed out about me, the ones I hid and the ones I could no longer hide, but only because that was easier. And I can somehow pretend like I don't care.
 
I am what I am. I love to read but books are the lover I never seem to have time for.
 
I am what I am. I make connections between two people when they wear the same color shirt or have a mom with the same first name. I think somehow that makes them friends, but it doesn't.

Almost nothing is unique, we all share common. stuff. but somehow I tell myself color coordination and matching names aren't mere coincidences.
 
I am what I am. I have a younger brother, a mom, a dad, a family of relatives, a family of friends. I have the hidden flaws that we all have.
 
We are all similar but Not the same.
 
And, therefore I am what I am.