My Instagram profile

is what I choose to show you:

The concert I went to Saturday night,

And my bloody nose from the mosh pit.

The tennis tournament I almost won,

And the sweat stains on my shirt.

The time I ran into #AlexFromTarget

And the irratation on his face from another teenage girl.

You don't see

the times that really build me up

(or break me down):

The first time a boy tried to kiss me,

And how I ran away.

The times my father hugged me,

And how I can't remember the last.

The first time I saw my little sister,

And the final time I held her hand.