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eleanora santino Aug 2019
a conflict of sorts:
i am trying to help myself
but am i making it worse?
are you my only option?
will you redeem me?
do i ask all the wrong questions?
are my reflection and i the same?
who is it that i want to be?
one i chase so desperately?
what is her name?

all that i used to be
is now so forgotten
unknown; she is foreign
separation of my mind
i can't understand it
all pieces tried to help me
yet fed me with lies
reality, perception
who can really tell the difference?
i know what my part of life is made of
...but what about the rest?
my ability to write came back and this is what i produced.

— The End —