Identity Crisis And All That Drama Poem by Lea Kardov

Thought I burned the tree, so the branches can't grow again.
But I kept the seeds inside my bloodstream, where nobody calls me broken, and I am free.
I tried to pretend to be them, her, then, and for a while, I believed it too.
I told them she was the cool girl, the business class with those shiny shoes and houses on the hill.
I built up three identities and knew them better than mine.
They all lived in another sequence while I died in time.
I know how to build up fake walls so they can save me, but they only drown me in quicksand.
I became a skeleton because I was scared of being that immigrant's daughter.
I tried to be the whole world combined, but now I'm exhausted from the waste of time and wine.
Tired of denying that I know that most people I run after will never like me anyway and that it is okay to be yourself.
Sick of all the dumb things I have done to reach someone's hand, never holding my own strength.
Sorry, I can't be her.
I am human and sometimes fall like snow on the midnight streets.