Hundreds of Pieces

This is a poem I wrote about holding it together.  It is really hard being strong for everyone, but the pressures and trials and the people holding you accountable end up making you who you are and making you better.  Sometimes I want to cry because I have too much on my plate, and then I write.....

I look in the mirror, girl holding her own,
Blonde and smiling, together and sewn,
But when the lights all go out, and the chaos settles,
My fears start to flare,
I'm left naked and bare.
The pressure, the worries, the letting people down....
My mind and my heart, only making a sound.
As the sun goes down, there is no illusion.
I am not my own person, I'm nothing but fusion.
Light seeps through the cracks that's known as my skin,
My head's clear, the light's gone and it's finally dim.
I am a hundred little pieces, belonging to them,
I don't own myself, but I do not condemn.

Every day, needing more of me to give, 

I am a hundred little reasons to rise up and live...
All fragments of heartbreak and learning and aching,
My life is not mine that I'm vengefully making.

All fragments of bravery and learning to cope, 

All fragments of love and letdowns and hope.

So I keep getting up, although taking its toll,
Hundreds of pieces are making me whole.
Hundreds of pieces keeping me from shattering,
I fight to stay together, to keep the pieces from scattering.