I am not the classiest of ladies, with the heels of my boots clacking on the ground as I walk.

I don't sit up straight, or watch what I say when I talk.

When I'm excited, nervous, mad, or scared, I am not afraid to let it show.

I speak my mind, and I don't care about what others don't want to know.

I care for people, even if they treat me wrong, because I can see the good.

Sometimes I am careless, doing things I probably never should.

I cut myself to make myself feel better, to loosen the strings of life.

I know I'll never be fit to be a mother, and never once will be a wife.

There came a point in time where I grew tired of hiding behind closed doors.

When I would get in trouble for keeping secrets, avoiding a downpour.

Bullies surfaced, their words began to hurt.

I was left feeling worthless, less than even dirt.

With anger built up, I let this unspoken word drive me.

Leaving all of this pain corrode and take ahold inside me.

Until one day I got tired of living beneath my skin.

Tired of the bones that carried me, exhausted from within.

I found a personality that suited my every need.

To be outspoken, to call out, to actually take the lead.

Something made me stay quiet for all the unpleasant years at the start.

I didn't like the darkness I was kept in, the way it crept in my heart.

My boyfriend's brother accused me of not being classy.

Say what you may, I will never be that, nor will I be trashy.

I can't stand being lady-like because to me, that's too frail - it's bound to show you're weak.

I am a person who won't live by society, because I am unique.

I speak my mind, and so what? Don't listen if you don't want to hear.

I used to keep secrets, once upon a time, and that's when I drew the end near.

I am not comfortable with being quiet because it didn't fit someone else's standards - I will not be shy.

And I will not change myself, just for the focus of some other guy.