You ask so much of me.

To explain who I am...

It's close to impossible.

There's not just one thing

that says "This is me."

Many things define

The one being I am.

I'm a daughter,

A sister,

A friend,

A lover,

A person you can lean on.

I'm an over-achiever,

A believer,

A doubter,

A teacher,

A girl with giant dreams.

You ask me

To expose myself.

To let others inside...

That leaves me vurnerable

For all the prodding people

In this world today.

No one will ever

Fully and completely know

Who I am.

I, myself, don't know

Who I'm supposed to be,

But I'm not done searching yet.

I still have pieces

That don't match.

Pieces that arent quite right.

Pieces that need to be 

Cut and reshaped

To fit the pattern.

You ask me,

"Who are you?"

As far as I know,

I'm like an

Old Patchwork Quilt.

There's many different things

Stitched together

To make a one-of-a-kind, beautiful

Me.