as i go back and read,

all these stories that made me Me,

i read about a girl, young in love, seeking attention

then i look in the mirror

i wonder what torture and pain and suffering

turned me into Me, lone and forlorn,

young and pretending, until one day i just shut

down and cry.

i remember how i used to feel all these feelings,

love, jealousy, happiness and connection-

now its hard to remember anything but

monotony.

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