I wish I could explain
how it makes me feel.
My shell is strong, and I look it.
But sometimes I break down.
I ask why it had to happen to me.
I was only three.
The shots, the pumps, the meters.
The lows, the highs, the sickness.
I just want a cure.
I was forced to grow up.
I could never really just be a kid.
At sleepovers, I came with instructions.
At school, some kids thought I was a robot.
I had to see the nurse twice a day.
I couldn’t eat the birthday cake.
I couldn’t have all my candy at Halloween.
Some kids just didn’t understand
and thought I was weird.
I shook it off, 'cause even then I was strong.
But, I would have even given up my favorite
for a cure.
Now, I don’t throw pity parties.
I know it could always be worse.
I try keep my head held high.
It gets a little easier.
I am self-sufficient.
I am strong.
But sometimes it is too much.
Sometimes I have no control.
I would give anything for a cure.
I want to just be "Hannah".
Not "that girl with diabetes".
I want to be in control of me.
I am tired of being sick.
I want to live life without the stress,
Without the fear of what might happen.
I want to be a normal, healthy teenager.
I know why God made me this way now.
He wanted me to be able to help others
going through the same thing.
And I help them, 'cause I know their pain.
But, I just keep praying that someday
I wont have to, because we'll all be free.
I just keep hoping,
and I have a feeling that soon
They will find cure.
I will just be "Hannah".