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I am.
I am from a house
on the corner of two streets
that don't really matter,
where I spend my nights looking in a mirror, discovering dusty pieces of myself.
I am from quick sketches,
poems that really aren't that good.
Why can't I be more like him? Like her?
I am from old books.
A safe and familiar refuge
away from all the insanity
that is
Myself.
I am from Uncertainty, Timidity,
Hesitation, Fear of Rejection;
Whittling me into a frail, careful creature.
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Altough the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it. ---Helen Keller---