It matters

You say my name like I still matter.
Is'nt it strange? The days that I don't feel that way?
Some days I think I don't have it together.
This little insecure thing growing into a woman,
And I fear nothing much has changed.

But the strength that I feel gliding
Through every scar on my skin and mind
Tells a different story to the sighting
Of myself in the mirror.

So I say my name like I will matter
And I touch those words mouthed back to me.
All the bad things that I have severed
Away from me, inside my poetry
Will be the story of becoming.

Every piece of this is mine.
Every piece of this makes me more complete.
I am healing myself and I have time
To learn how to cherish myself.