You took something of mine. Precious, it was and you took it. Redundant, says you. Left me with a shattered soul. A long haired, brown-eyed broken girl. Forced to grow up too quick. Smiles came easily, laughter was plenty. Living came naturally with forgotten memories. You took something of mine. I am someone. You may have taken something precious. But I am important. Feeling shameful, less valuable than dirt. Haven't you heard by now? I am beautiful. I am worthy. I am Me.