Cinderella's Shelf [for contest "Who are you"]

Who I really am, you ask? I'm sorry I can't say.
Once upon a time I knew, but she has passed away.
All I know is who I was, and how I used to be,
The blonde girl singing on the fence was little Sarah: ME.
She sang and smiled all the time, made herself a dance,
Watching Cinderella, and dreaming of romance.
I'm not sure where she ran to, her departure made no sense,
But after one too many moves, there just was no more fence.
Daddy's job kept saying "MOVE" because that's what he does,
So on trip from state to state to state, I lost the girl I was.
I attempted to blend in, with all the girls around me,
But my life was kind of skewed since I'd lost my little boundary.
I no longer wore my dresses, no pink bows in my hair,
The feelings of the girl I was were just no longer there.
I didn't dance but sometimes smiled, and only sang alone,
The only places my voice touched were walls inside my home.
I still watched Cinderella, and dreamed of that romance,
But deep inside I knew that I would never get the chance.
To strip myself of loneliness, attention was my goal,
Behind my eyes, the tarnished jewel: a lively, vivid soul.
I was ignored, looked over, lost, a face beneath the crowd,
I wanted to be seen and touched, to sing again out loud.
They didn't listen, touch or look, so I listened to myself,
I took the girl I used to be and took her off the shelf.
No longer would I hold my tongue, and simply fade away,
No holding back from every word I had to sing and say.
I wrote and sang and drew and showed the world what they can't see,
I sang them every note and scar of who I want to be.
But again they didn't listen, so I listened to myself,
I stuck that silly little girl back up on her shelf.
I looked into the mirror, scared of what I'd see,
"Do I not know who I am?" I couldn't lie to me.
Am I the girl thatâ??s in the corner, who's writing her salvation,
Or the lost and lonely beaten girl without a destination?
Maybe I'm the girl in class that gives the others hope,
The girl with scars beneath her sleeves 'cause she can't really cope?
Am I the girl curled up in bed, crying off to sleep,
Or am I someone someone else would wish to hold and keep?
I swore I'd be that person, and I began to write,
I wrote an epic poem that kept me up all night.
I didn't cry myself to sleep, I didn't cut my wrist,
I thought of what I want to be, and then I made a list.
I wanted to be different, and yet be pretty, too,
I wanted to be noticed, I wanted to be new.
I didn't want perfection, but I wanted edgy class,
Like a rebel Cinderella in some Converse made of glass.
I streaked my hair red, my baby blues' enhanced,
I figured Hey, it's finally time to take my little chance.
Personality did wonders as I smiled and I laughed,
And people looked and listened, and I was touched at last.
I felt a hand upon my arm that guided me away,
He told me that his name was Dane, I choked on what to say.
"Hey Dane, I'm Sarah-Ashlyn, did you come here by yourself?"
When he nodded, oh that hopeful girl flew right off of her shelf.
I felt my face start glowing and my heart pounded in bliss,
Words and phrases later, he leaned in for the kiss.
Everything was perfect, I finally felt the touch,
I never guessed that it would mean so very awful much.
I was Cinderella, a rebel with a chance,
A teenage soul with passion and desire for romance.
Since that night we met, our lives have never been the same,
And 10 months in he asked me if I would take his name.
We're happy here together though we've had a bumpy trail,
But we just tell the world that we're a rebel fairy tale.
I've learned to love this wild soul, this restless child inside,
I do not quiet her sweet songs, nor will I let her hide.
She is my soul, my heart, my love, and all that I admire,
She's the air that comforts me and my passion's strongest fire.
I took the girl down from my shelf, the girl I used to be,
I put her deep inside my heart and carry her with me.
So who I really am, you ask? Well I am proud to say,
I'm a rebel Cinderella, and I'm liking it this way.