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.