I am alone,

But not lonely.

I am one of those

Who enjoys the silence of empty hallways,

Empty rooms,

An empty world,

And a full mind.

I used to be one of those

Who enjoyed being surrounded by noise,

By people,

By the world.

I used to be a follower.

But pressure grew stronger,

Friendships grew weaker,

Love grew stronger,

Willpower grew weaker,

Authority grew stronger,

Defense grew weaker,

Internal struggle grew stronger,

And I grew weaker.

I found myself on an island,

Drifting silently and sadly away from everything except my loud mind.

But every day,

These things come back and invade me,

Shouting, screaming,

"You are a failure.

You mess up everything you touch.

You don't deserve anything."

And I can do nothing about it.

I really do not know who I am

And I do not think I truly will

Until the day I die,

Until the day that I have lived.

But when I am on my island

All by myself

I begin to realize what I do know

I am kind.

I am okay.

I am hopeful

For myself.