Conflicted

I feel split in two, and I'm not sure who's winning.

I am two separate, conflicting souls dwelling in a single body.  I am pathetically weak and incredible strong.  I crumble under the weight of a feather and stand solid under the weight of crushing stone.  I don't believe I will make it to the age of 25, and I believe I will use my life to make a difference. I don't see the point, and I know I am meant for great things.  I crave a pure love, and I want no one to see me. I carve a tally in my skin for every mistake, and I crave a clean slate.  I love myself the way I am, and I hate myself for not being good enough.  Each part of me hates the other.  They are in constant battle for control.