I'm strong... I am strong.

It's what I've been telling myself all along.

But it's time for the world to know

That I, too, have flaws.

I cry.

I scream.

But I'm not dysfunctional.

I laugh.

I cheer.

But I'm not that functional.

I go into the shower,

And when cold water touches me,

I freeze and bounce between the curtains separating the safe present and threatening past like a rubber ball.

But I'm not dysfunctional.

I walk outside and turn around with every single step,

Guarding myself,

But I am not dysfunctional.

I throw up and my stomach turns itself inside out when the world is too much,

But I am not dysfunctional.

I hyperventilate and lose my breath,

With or with no witnesses,

But I promise that

I am not dysfunctional.

I can brighten up a room sometimes,

Joke and play with everyone,

But I swear, I am not functional.

I can smile and push the tears back inside,

But sometimes they win,

And I crumble and stumble,

But I am not dysfunctional.

I cringe in big crowds and loud sounds,

And big gatherings drain my energy,

But I am not dysfunctional.

I fail to pick myself up when my pieces shatter,

And I fail to tell the truth about my pain,

And I need a hand to pull me out of my river of tears, anger, and confusion

But... I'm not dysfunctional.

I can crack jokes and have my world on fire,

But I am not so functional.

I can laugh, be put together, strong, and rise to the top of the world and spread my wings wide and fly.

I can fly high and laugh so wholeheartedly and my laughter could fill up the sky.

But even then, I'm not so functional.

I can cry, be broken, weak, and sink to the bottom of my sea of emotions.

I cry for weeks and months and my tears can turn into oceans.

So, nor am I dysfunctional.

Because it's time you realize a brutal truth:

I'm not a machine that you can fix,

Because the nails and screws will always leave their marks.

I have scars and wounds that may never mend.

So, it's time you realize that

I am a human.