Who am I?

Pulling on my strings,

I am a puppet to their words.

Craving approval,

lapping it up like a thirsty puppy.

I dance on my toes,

spin on pointe,

giggle and laugh,

in hopes for a nod.

An acknowledgement

of my existence.

I offer up my heart,

present them the key.

Unlock it for them,

hoping for a glance.

Yet,

they throw it away,

flick it with their manicured nails.

And I watch it roll,

hear it shatter.

Into a million pieces.

And it takes a while,

as I look around.

For me to find myself...

But I pick up my pieces

and put myself together,

gluing my heart back,

with hopes and dreams untarnished by judgement.

For,

I do not need them and their judgement.

I do not need them to paint my existence,

I do not need their approval.

For I know who I am without their help

I am myself.